Memento Vivere  Remember to Live
by Alice I
Summary: Sometimes one needs to lead by example. Charlie wants David and Colby to remember what is important in life because it can be taken away in an instant. Remember to Live before it's too late. Part two in a series of three stories.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Memento Vivere - _Remember to Live_  
**Author:** Alice I  
**Betas:** Serialgal  
**Rating:** G  
**Disclaimer: **I** _wish_** I owned them!

**A/N** - This story can be considered an extension of "Faith in Your Partner" but it is not necessary to read that first unless of course you would like to. It is only two chapters long and not a half bad piece of writing.  
This multi chapter fic is still about Colby and David even though it feels like a good old fashioned Charlie whump!

Reviews are always welcome along with constructive comments. Please feel free to leave either.  
For an update on my writing activities please click on my name and check out the notes on my home page.  
Enjoy  
Alice I

**Memento Vivere  
**

**_Remember to Live_ **

Charlie rode the elevator up to the fourth floor with some anticipation. It was the first case that Don had asked for his help on since Colby's arrest. He didn't count his work in helping to find the wayward agent when he escaped FBI custody since he had inserted himself into that investigation rather forcefully.

During the time away from the FBI, the young mathematician had found that he enjoyed concentrating all of his considerable energy on teaching and his own life pursuits, making something Amita pointed out a few years ago strike him rather profoundly. At that time, he was concerned about Don, and the intensity that his life and job had taken. Amita had wisely observed that he had made Don's life work his life's work by spending the lion's share of his time consulting for the FBI rather than on his own academic career. Spending the better part of the last couple of months devoted to his teaching, his Cognitive Emergence work, and most importantly, his relationship with Amita had allowed him to feel that he had finally achieved some measure of personal and emotional equilibrium in his life. At last, he felt ready to move his life both professionally and personally to the next level. 

Yet keeping all of that in mind he had also missed working with Don and the team. It almost felt like a lifetime ago given the drastic events that surrounded Colby's arrest, escape, and subsequent rescue. The fact that he went from being a traitor to his country to a department hero in the space of a breath was stunning and somewhat difficult to absorb, and as it turned out; more for some than others.

Charlie was sure that Don was pleased that his instincts about Colby had been right but the younger Eppes could clearly sense the duality in his brother's feelings toward his former team member. The fact that Colby had been reporting on his actions as well as the rest of the team, not to mention all of the agents in that office, seemed to rankle the man's sense of what was right. Don, along with every other agent in the LA office, had essentially been under investigation. As a team leader Charlie wasn't sure how that made his brother feel. Colby was doing a job, an important job, which Don seemed to understand intellectually and respect, but being under suspicion of treason or anything else must really bother him on a deeper level.

Megan seemed to take this change in Colby's status much more easily than any of the others. Larry who had once declared that the 'X' chromosome was the reason for a woman's sensitivity to the feelings of others outside of herself was now holding that it was Megan's womanhood that allowed her to switch gears more readily than her male counterparts. Whether it was being a woman or the mysterious assignment that Megan had with the DOJ, which Charlie suspected had a higher probability of accuracy; Megan did seem to be the most at ease around Colby within the FBI office. 

Charlie himself was just relieved that it had turned out Colby was still one of the good guys. He had spent many a night wondering how he could have been so utterly fooled by the man. He had trusted Colby implicitly, if not with his own life, then with his brother's. He had unbelievable difficulty reconciling what he thought he knew about Colby with what the man had freely admitted to doing. Being away from the FBI and its consulting jobs gave him a respite from those troubling thoughts, at least during his waking hours.

So when it had turned out that Colby was actually innocent of the treason charges and was in fact working undercover, Charlie had readily accepted that as an explanation and allowed himself to feel relieved and delighted that he was in fact right about him all along. Amita laughed when Charlie had said this to her telling him that he always hated being wrong about anything. To her surprise, Charlie had not objected to that assessment, but heartily agreed.

"As a mathematician I rely on my powers of observation to gather data. With incorrect or incomplete data, my mathematical models and expressions wouldn't hold water. So yeah, I do hate being wrong about things because it means that every other assertion based on an incorrect assumption is erroneous." 

David was the only person who was showing outward signs of difficulty with this transition. He had been outright aggressive during the hunt for Colby and after he was found, and even though David had been the one to actually save his life, he still held onto his anger at his former partner. Charlie had not spent a lot of time around the team as a whole since Colby's return, but what he had observed of David's behavior showed the man to be cold and stiffly polite toward Colby.

Being called in by Don gave Charlie some hope that the team was on the mend and things would begin to return to normal, but what he found when he walked through the FBI office dashed his hopes quickly. He caught sight of David walking through the bullpen to the break room. Colby greeted him in a friendly manner and David looked as though he was going to completely ignore him but after a few steps he turned his head over his shoulder with an obligatory nod and a "hey" without even slowing down. The look of frustration and disappointment on Colby's face was clear and a little heartbreaking. A moment later Colby's eyes followed David's retreating back shining with a pure resentment that made Charlie sigh.

As if trying to reverse the silent rebuff, Charlie approached Colby openly and shook his hand in a friendly manner patting him on the back.  
"Hey, it's good to see you here again."

Colby's shot a quick glance off in the direction of the break room before turning a smile to Charlie.  
"Hey ya, Whiz Kid. Shouldn't you be teaching a class or something?"

That earned a confused look from Charlie.  
"Don asked me to run some search parameters for finding the lab of this drug ring. Aren't you working the case?"

Colby eyes darted back to the break room for a split second, filling with regret. His voice however sounded optimistic as he said, "Nah, I have accepted a position with the DC office. I'm flying out this afternoon."

Charlie felt as though he had been punched in the gut. He could see that Colby wanted to be here in LA. He knew for a fact that the man considered this to be home and he, at least used to, view these people like his family. Now it seemed that the unresolved issues with David were driving him to the opposite side of the country. This had a disheartening ring of familiarity to it. He had nearly lost his relationship with Don once; it had taken years to really work out their issues, but the work and the difficulty was more than worth it in the end. His relationship with his brother was truly one of the most cherished things in his life. The dull headache that he had woke up with that morning seemed to increase and the smile dropped off his face.

"Are you sure that's what you want, Colby?"

Don spied his brother and called out to him in a loud voice across the bullpen but Charlie still heard Colby's nearly whispered reply as he looked at David emerging from the break room with a cup of coffee in hand.  
"I'm sure it's not."

"Hey Charlie, thanks for coming in. You got something for us?"

Charlie looked at his brother with a heavy heart, wishing that he could just take both David and Colby and smack their heads together. Why couldn't they see that they were throwing something important away? But instead, he smiled weakly at Don and held his laptop satchel up slightly indicating that he had results to share. Don saw the look on his brother's face and felt a twinge of concern.

"Hey, you feeling okay, Buddy?" he said, as he draped his arm over the younger man's shoulders.

Turning away from Colby with a sad look on his face, he started walking with Don toward the War Room.  
"Yeah, just give me a sec to get this set up."

As Charlie hooked up the media center to his laptop, and the rest of the team gathered, Don noticed that he stopped a couple of times to rub his temple or the back of his neck as though it were sore and stiff. Don's concern grew steadily as Charlie began to explain to the team the results of his analysis. He seemed distracted and had to back track twice after losing his train of thought. Finally, Charlie seemed to give up all together and circled a two-block radius then put an X on an old abandoned warehouse.

"Just take my word for it, go here and you'll find your drug dealers."

This earned him several raised eyebrows and a frown from Don.  
"Okay people you heard the man, we roll in five minutes."

As everyone filed out of the War Room to get their perspective jobs done Don stepped over to Charlie. His concern morphed into worry as he got closer and could see pain etched in his brother's eyes. Making sure that everyone had left the room, Don reached his arm around Charlie's shoulders again and spoke quietly but in a tone that broached no argument.

"Charlie, what's going on? And don't tell me that you're fine because it's obvious that you're not."

Charlie had almost finished packing up his laptop and sighed heavily.  
"It's this headache; I woke up with it. It wasn't too bad until a few minutes ago, now it's getting worse. I think I need to go home; take a few Excedrin and a nap."

Don tried to look into Charlie's eyes but his face was bent down.  
"Is it a migraine?"

"I dunno, maybe... the light is really starting to hurt my eyes."

Don looked out the glass window into the bullpen, noticed Colby looking his way and waved him over. Seeing the worry on Don's face Colby stepped quickly over to the War Room.  
"Hey listen, Charlie, I've had a migraine once or twice, and there is no way you should be driving if you have one."

Colby had just stepped into the room and Don looked up at him.  
"Hey, do you have time before your flight to drop Charlie off at home?"

Charlie looked up at Don to protest but the light from the florescent overhead stabbed him in the eyes making him visibly wince and he knew that it was an argument he wouldn't win.

"Yeah, sure I've got plenty of time, Don. You okay there, Whiz Kid?"

Charlie was starting to feel a little foolish and nodded briskly as he put his satchel over his shoulder; a move that made his head explode in a psychedelic shower of colorful pain, but he said firmly, "I just have a bit of a migraine and Don doesn't want me to drive."

The increase in pain that Charlie felt was not lost on Don as his brother had hoped, and the agent responded, "Damn straight." Then turning to Colby he said, "Make sure he goes into the house and lies down okay?"

"You got it, boss..." Colby said then stopped short realizing his slip. Don was no longer his boss and the awkwardness that had existed between them seemed to come crashing back. "I'll make sure he goes to bed."

"Hey, I'm not a child, and in case you hadn't noticed, I'm standing right here!" Charlie cried in a petulant tone.

That broke the tension between the FBI agents and they exchanged a genuine smile.  
"Come on, Charlie..." Colby said, with a smirk. "Lets get you outta here before they find more work for you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Charlie wanted to stop in the men's room before he left the office and he took a moment to splash water on his face. The pain behind his right eye became so intense that he wished he could just take the offending orb out. Colby waited outside of the bathroom wanting to give the young man his privacy, but after nearly five minutes had past he was starting to think he should go check on the mathematician. He was just reaching for the door when Charlie emerged white faced and looking worse for the wear.

"Let's get going," was all he had to say as he bowed his head to avoid the bright overhead lights. Once they got into the elevators, Charlie leaned back against the wall of the car with his eyes closed willing the nausea that seemed to come with the bright flashes of color to subside.

"You get a lot of migraines?"

Colby's voice wasn't loud, but in the silence of the elevator, it startled Charlie and actually seemed to cause a measure of pain in and of itself. It was almost as if he was also having a bout of tinnitus on top of the photophobia associated with most migraine headaches. Schooling his voice to sound calm and in control Charlie replied, "Not really. This one came on kind of suddenly."

Once they got down to the parking garage the cooler air of the underground structure made Charlie feel marginally better. The walk to Colby's car was short but by the time they got there, Charlie had started sweating, no longer feeling that the air was cooler. He carefully set his laptop in the back seat of Colby's car before sliding into the passenger side just as another wave of nausea and sharp pain hit with frightening force. Charlie leaned over holding the door handle and threw up on the pavement next to the car.

"Hey, Charlie, maybe you should try to get in to see your doctor."

It took the mathematician a moment to gather himself. He spit a couple of times to rid his mouth of the bile and sat up panting and he laid his head back against the seat. He pulled the door closed and said, "Just take me home, okay?"

Colby looked over at Charlie for a moment feeling real concern as he watched the younger man struggle with his seat belt. "Hey, man you don't look so good."

With a crooked smile, Charlie replied, "Yeah, well I don't feel so good either. I suggest you get me home before I throw up inside your car."

Colby could tell that Charlie was trying to lighten the mood, but he still cast nervous glances over at him every few moments as he pulled out of the parking space and headed toward the garage entrance. As soon as they emerged into the bright late morning sunshine, Charlie groaned in pain and dropped his head into his hands.

"Charlie this can't just be a migraine, can it?"

Charlie tried to compose himself but the pain in his head was mounting and it was actually starting to affect his hearing. Colby's voice seemed to be coming from a long distance away. He could feel his heart beat pulsing through his temples and inside his skull. He felt like he could actually hear the blood coursing through the vessels in his head and neck and found that to be the most unnerving sensation he could ever remember. Within two blocks of the FBI office Charlie had begun panting so hard that Colby was sure he was going to make good on his threat to throw up in the car, but he became down right scared when Charlie cried out in a strangled voice, "Oh, God! Help, Colby my head's gonna explode."

That was all that the agent needed to hear, and he turned the wheel sharply, changing direction toward the freeway that would take them to UCLA Medical Center's emergency room, which was the closest ER to their present location. Charlie's breathing became faster as the pain in his head increased and Colby put a hand on his shoulder telling him to hold on. At that point, Charlie was leaning forward as far as his seat belt would allow holding his head and groaning in pain between gasps for air. Colby was tempted to try to contact Don but knew that he would have switched off his cell before going on the raid of the drug lab and he wasn't sure that this warranted activating an emergency contact to an operational TAC team... yet.

Colby was weaving in and out of traffic while casting solicitous glances over at Charlie. A semi without a trailer pulled out in front of him sharply forcing Colby to hit the breaks hard before he could safely maneuver around. With his heart pounding a little from the near accident, Colby got his vehicle over to the exit ramp of the freeway thankful that they would be getting off and away from the heavier traffic. His heart dropped to his stomach when he looked over at Charlie who was no longer groaning in pain, but leaning forward, held upright only by the taught seat belt, his hands lying limply in his lap while his head hung down to his chest rocking slightly with the movement of the vehicle.

"Charlie! Hey man, Charlie can you hear me?"

As Colby turned right off the exit ramp Charlie slipped over and drooped against the center console obviously unconscious. Colby reached out and shook him calling out his name, but got no reply. He pushed the young man back against the seat and watched as his head lolled limply to the side and came to a rest against the window. Colby took in the pale lifeless features as he stepped on the gas and switched on his siren.

It was only a few minutes later that Colby screeched to a stop in front of UCLA's ER entrance. He jumped out and tore around the car to pull the unconscious man from the front seat. Charlie was not exactly light especially when he was dead weight and Colby had to strain to carry him in through the ER doors. The registrar looked up startled at the sound of the agent calling for help and carrying the unconscious man up the short corridor between the reception desk and the front doors. She stood quickly, called back toward the ER department for a stretcher to the front, and indicated to Colby that he should proceed around the desk and to the doors separating the ER from the waiting area as she pushed a button that opened them.

A doctor and a nurse met him just on the other side of the automatic sliding doors pushing a stretcher along. Colby laid Charlie down and the doctor began asking questions about what had happened.

"He had a severe headache, he threw up, the headache got worse and then he passed out."

The doctor lifted Charlie's eye lids peering in to his eyes with a pen light then looked up at the nurse.

"The right pupil is blown. We'll need a neuro consult." He turned to Colby and asked "How long did he have this headache before he passed out, and how long has he been unconscious?"

"Not long, He started having the headache really only for about ten or fifteen minutes before it started getting really bad. He passed out in the car on the way here; I'd say he's been out for nearly ten minutes now. What does this mean, is he gonna be alright?"

Colby moved along side the stretcher as the doctor and nurse pushed it into the emergency department and angled it into one of the many exam rooms along the right wall of the large department. The doctor introduced himself as Robert Aaron but before he could answer Colby's questions, Charlie moaned and started to roll on his side as he reached up grabbing the sides of his head.

"What's his name?" Doctor Aaron asked.

"Charlie, Charlie Eppes."

"Mr. Eppes can you open your eyes for me?" The doctor was trying to get Charlie to roll over to his back to finish his assessment, but Charlie either wasn't listening or couldn't hear him. He called out to Colby again as he rocked slightly. The agent stepped right up to the stretcher and took Charlie's wrists speaking in a firm voice.

"Charlie, listen to me. You need to roll on to your back and open your eyes. You're at the hospital and the doctor is trying to help you."

Charlie seemed to respond to the commanding tone Colby used and complied by rolling onto his back but he kept his eyes closed tightly. "It hurts," he gasped weakly.

"I know, man, but you need to open your eyes, okay."

Charlie opened his eyes slowly and winced at the brightness of the overhead lights; then as his sight adjusted he moved his eyes back and forth, as panic began to fill them and his breathing took on a frantic pace.

"Oh, God, this can't be."

"Charlie, what is it?"

Charlie turned his head toward Colby's voice and his eyes were shining with fear. "Something's wrong here; I can see on the right, why can't I see on this side? Did I have a stroke? I don't remember coming to the hospital, Colby. How did I get here? What's happening to me?"

The pain seemed to increase with his panic and the young man held his head in his hands and squeezed his eyes shut tightly. Doctor Aaron took all of this information in and looked at the nurse gravely. "Get an IV started and draw blood; we'll need a full panel. Call CT and find out if the Phillips people are done with the scanner yet and get a call into Specials. With a probable SAH we'll need Angio time as well."

Colby's focus was on Charlie and trying to calm him down but he didn't miss anything the doctor was saying and he asked without even looking at him, "What's an SAH?"

The doctor only wasted half a second on being startled that this man had picked up on his rapid-fire instructions to his nurse. "I'm sorry, who are you in relation to Mr. Eppes? I can only discuss a patient's medical condition with family members."

Before Colby could form an answer, Charlie reached his left hand up with surprising strength and grabbed the doctor's wrist. "He _is _family! I understand the privacy rules and I'm telling you that I am giving consent for you to tell Colby anything you would tell me. Please; what's wrong with me?"

Colby felt his heart flip-flop at those words. Charlie had accepted his change in status far more easily than anyone else had, but to have the young man classify him as family touched him deeply. He gave Charlie's right hand a squeeze and looked up at the doctor as he took out his badge.

"I'm Special Agent Colby Granger with the FBI. Charlie is a consultant for us and he is also my friend."

The doctor simply shrugged and pulled over a rolling stool to sit down next to the stretcher. He had worked with enough law enforcement types that he was well aware of the fraternal brotherhood that seemed to exist with officers or agents and he wasn't about to question it, especially given that he had consent from the patient.

"Mr. Eppes on a scale of one to ten; with ten being the worst pain you have ever had, how would you rate this headache?"

Charlie didn't hesitate at all and replied, "Fifteen."

The doctor nodded as if confirming something in his mind. "You are showing most of the signs we look for when assessing a subarachnoid hemorrhage. What I believe is happening is a rupture has occurred in an aneurysm within your brain. That would explain the spectacular headache, the visual disturbances and the periods of unconsciousness you are experiencing. The CT scanner is getting a new tube put into it so we may not be able to get a scan right away, but there is another test that can confirm a subarachnoid bleed."

Charlie moaned and rocked his head back and forth as if trying to rid himself of the pain by sheer movement. This only increased his discomfort but he croaked out his question. "What test?"

"We could do a lumbar puncture or spinal tap. If there is blood in the cerebral spinal fluid that will confirm the diagnosis, if there isn't we can also test the fluid for meningitis or a host of other infections that could be causing your symptoms."

Charlie could take the lights no longer and clamped his hands over his eyes rolling on to his side and curing up in a fetal position. "Do what ever you have to, to make it stop! Just make is st..." his voice trailed off and he went limp as unconsciousness took him yet again.

Colby felt as if the bottom had dropped out of his world. If this doctor was right and Charlie had an aneurysm in his brain, then he could die in an instant with no warning.

* * *

A/N - Okay then... Are you still breathing?  
Once again please feel free to click on the button below and leave a comment. They _**do**_ make my day. :)

For anyone interested I have updated my page again to keep up with new developments. My muse went ballistic this past Friday after Robin Hood. A large and well developed plot bunny sprung up then proceeded to chew up all the other bunnies and spit them out! I may just have to deal with this guy as soon as I finish posting this fic! Yikes!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three **

Charlie's period of unconsciousness was only momentary before he roused again. "Please turn the lights off, they're hurting my eyes."

The doctor stood up and turned off the bright overhead fluorescent light leaving the dimmer wall light above the stretcher on. "Do you remember what we were just talking about, Mr. Eppes?"

Charlie remained on his side but answered the doctor. "You think I have a brain aneurysm. If it has already ruptured causing a hemorrhage then why am I still alive?"

Charlie's voice sounded surprisingly calm, but Colby could hear the fear behind his words. The need to contact Don now out weighed his operational circumstances, but Colby couldn't just walk away from Charlie at that moment.

"A subarachnoid bleed is not uncommon in this situation. It indicates that there is a leak in the wall of the aneurysm. If this is a bleed, your risk of a full rupture has now increased to an unacceptable level and it will need to be dealt with surgically."

Just then, the nurse came back into the exam room with supplies to start an IV and she reported that the CT scanner was still out of commission for then next two to three hours. The doctor looked at Charlie and said, "If you are diagnosed with a subarachnoid bleed we will need to do an exam called a four vessel cerebral angiogram. We need to check your BUN and creatinine levels first because you will be given x-ray contrast in order to highlight the blood vessels in your brain and if those levels are off you cannot have the contrast. Do you have any history of kidney problems?"

All he got from Charlie was a muffled "uh uh." Doctor Aaron put a gentle hand on Charlie's arm and spoke softly. "In the meantime I can give you something to help with the pain of this headache. We could move ahead with the lumbar puncture or we could wait for the brain scan."

The nurse had moved behind the doctor and up to the left side of Charlie's stretcher. She worked quietly getting ready to insert the IV while the doctor spoke to his patient but when the needle went in, Charlie jerked and tried to pull away from her.

"You need to hold still, Mr. Eppes."

Charlie realized that, but for some reason the needle stick hurt more than it should have. It seemed odd to him that he was so sensitive to the feel of the needle when his head hurt so much, but if anything, the pain had seemed to sensitize the rest of his body to the slightest touch.

"What are the advantages and risks of the lumbar puncture?"

The nurse handed two bottles to the doctor and he looked at them for a moment before handing one back to her saying to give him 5 units of what ever it was in it and pocketing the other. Then he addressed Charlie's question.

"We'll get a quicker diagnosis, and can immediately set up for the cerebral angiogram which is the only test sensitive enough to definitively confirm the presence of an aneurysm as well as provide critical information regarding it's size, shape, and location. If the headache and neurological dysfunction are being caused by another issue like meningitis or a glucose imbalance that can also be ruled out by testing the spinal fluid. Lumbar punctures are a low risk procedure and very simple to perform. We use a 24 gauge needle to minimize the incidence of post puncture headache which is the most common side effect."

"Oh really, you mean like the one I have now?" Charlie asked in a dry tone.

Doctor Aaron could see that his patient was trying to bring a level of humor to the devastatingly bad news that he had been given but he wanted him to truly understand what he was facing. "Mr. Eppes..."

"Call me Charlie."

"Okay, Charlie, there is a risk with any procedure but I believe that the risk of waiting is greater. The fact that you had lapses in consciousness, that you cannot see out of your right eye and the fact that you have the worst headache of your life all indicate to me that we need to act aggressively here. Is there an immediate family member here in LA that we can contact?"

"My dad is out of town until tomorrow and my brother..." Charlie turned his head toward Colby with a questioning frown. "We can't call him right now can we, Colby?"

The doctor looked curious at his patient's seeming reluctance to contact his brother. Colby saw the confusion in Doctor Aaron's eyes and addressed him directly.

"Charlie's brother is also an FBI agent who is currently in an operational situation that makes it difficult to contact him. This is an emergency, however, and there is a way to get a message to him; I'll take care of it."

Charlie closed his eyes for a moment suddenly feeling drained. Whatever medication the doctor had ordered was making him feel dizzy but it did seem to take an edge off the headache if only slightly. "If I get this headache - the one that comes from the lumbar puncture - will it make my head worse than it is now, or won't I even notice the new pain?"

Charlie squeezed his eyes shut, as another sharp pain seemed to pierce his right eye from the inside and nauseating pressure closed around his head like a vice. "I don't think I can take any more than this," he gasped in a strangled whisper.

The nurse had finished putting in an IV for Charlie and had drawn the blood she needed to send to the lab so Doctor Aaron told her to turn off the wall light leaving only the baseboard lights still lit providing Charlie with some immediate relief. "We need to get some information from you, Charlie and get you into a gown. Agent... Granger?" at Colby's nod he continued, "See if you can get that message to Charlie's brother. Then in a few minutes after the pain medication has had a chance to kick in we can talk about how to proceed."

As Colby turned to leave, Charlie reached out and took his arm. He tried to pull him closer but his hand didn't seem to work properly and slipped off the agent's arm dropping heavily to the bed. Colby came closer and Charlie said, "Don't go to D.C."

Colby bent down so that he was right in front of Charlie and he knew that the young man could see him clearly with his good eye. "Hey, don't even worry about that. Right now you need me here, so here is where I'll be, okay."

Charlie shook his head wincing as pain shot through him with the action. "That's not what I meant. Colby, life is too short and it can be snatched away without warning. Please, you must follow your heart; even if it leads you down a path that is more difficult to travel."

Colby gave Charlie's hand, which was now cool and limp, a squeeze and stood up. An orderly had slipped into the room to help Charlie get out of his clothes and the nurse was about to escort Colby to the registrar to fill out paperwork when she turned and asked her patient if he had an insurance card with him. Charlie tugged his wallet out of his back pocket and handed it to Colby waving his hand slightly and mumbled.

"Like the spaghetti sauce."

Colby took the wallet but frowned at Charlie utterly perplexed by what the young man had just said. "Spaghetti sauce? Charlie, what?"

"It's in there."

Colby just shook his head at the young man wondering if the headache wasn't making him a little cuckoo. As they passed out to the front desk he asked the nurse as much, and she turned to him with a serious expression.

"The paperwork needs to be filled out, but getting a hold of his brother is more important at this point. Your friend is already showing signs of neurological deficits. He seems to have lost strength in his right arm. Did you notice that?"

Colby nodded feeling even more nervous about Charlie's condition as she continued, "If he begins to loose coherent communication, which it sounds like may already be happening, then we will need an actual family member to sign consent for the procedures. It's a good thing that Charlie gave consent to discuss his medical issues with you while he was still competent because that gives you the authority to get us that consent over the phone."

Colby took her meaning and grabbed his cell phone as he headed for the corridor that led to the front door so he could go outside and make the call. Contacting the tactical dispatch was the easy part, but getting the message out to someone in the field could be tricky. For a raid of this sort, there would be a tactical van on site but whether or not it was manned was another question. If the situation deteriorated then all manpower could be drawn into a firefight leaving the team essentially unreachable until someone physically went back to the van. Colby was in luck, however, because the dispatcher was able to put him through to the van and he got an Agent Wilcop on the line immediately.

"Agent Wilcop, this is Special Agent Colby Granger. Listen, I have an emergency situation here and I need to contact Don Eppes."

There was a crackle of static from the three-way connection but Agent Wilcop's reply was clear enough. "They have just breached the location, Agent Granger. There isn't much I can do until the area is secure. What kind of emergency are you dealing with?"

Colby understood the situation but he didn't like it one bit. He had no choice other than to wait, but he could make sure that Don was informed the moment the scene was secure.

"Have Agent Eppes contact me as soon as he his available. He has a family member in critical condition and the doctors need family consent to proceed."

There was a moment of silence then Agent Wilcop's voice came back on over the line. "You'll have that call in the next few minutes, Agent Granger."

After thanking Wilcop for his assistance, Colby went back into the ER and up to the desk. The registrar gave him a clipboard and asked if he could fill out the forms to the best of his ability, understanding that he might not know all of the answers to the questions. Colby took the clipboard and stepped back out the front door so that he would have a clear signal for when Don called back.

True to Wilcop's word, Colby's phone rang shrilly seven and a half minutes later and he heard exactly what he thought he would when he answered.

"Colby, what happened to Charlie? Where are you?"

"We are at UCLA and his headache isn't a migraine. Don, they think he has a brain aneurysm that has started to rupture." That statement was met with stunned silence and Colby continued quickly before Don could start firing questions at him that he didn't have answers to. "They need to do a couple of tests but they need consent. Charlie can't give it himself because... well because they don't think he's competent at this point. Look let me put you on with the doctor who is treating him." Colby turned and walked purposefully back into the ER ignoring the signs that forbid cell phone use and walked right up to the desk. "Dr. Aaron needs family consent for Charles Eppes. I have his family on the phone right now."

The registrar darted back into the ER and after only a minute or two, Doctor Aaron rushed out and took the phone from Colby. While the doctor spoke in hushed tones with Don, Colby turned the paper work he had filled out over to the registrar. When Doctor Aaron handed the phone back, Colby asked him how Charlie was and what they were planning to do.

"Charlie's neurological status has deteriorated somewhat. He is fading in and out of consciousness and isn't making much sense when he speaks. He has lost mobility on the right side of his body because of the pressure on his brain from the hemorrhage. With his brother's consent, we are going to do the lumbar puncture as well as the cerebral angiography. He will be leaving to go to Radiology for the angio in about half an hour and from there he will be admitted directly to the neurological ICU. I'll have someone tell you where that is and how to get there. I told Agent Eppes to meet you here and by then hopefully Charlie will be done in Radiology and on his way up to the ICU."

Colby thanked the doctor for his help and then turned to take a seat and wait to see Don, whom he knew would be breaking just about every speed record to get here as quickly as possible.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

_Twenty-five minutes ago…_

Don and David moved slowly toward the double doors at the front of a warehouse, in a seedy section of South Central followed by three other agents all in flak gear. Five more agents, lead by Megan, covered the rear entrance; all waiting on Don's signal to enter. There was a small dirty window just to the left of the doors that Don carefully peaked into. With one quick glance he was able to place the position of two guards near the rear doors, two more guards flanking the front doors and one guard walking lazily up and down between two long tables set up where the production and packaging of the China White was taking place. They all held automatic weapons and looked like they had some experience in using them. The tables were staffed by half a dozen laborers, all of who had white masks covering their faces hiding their features, who looked to be mostly Oriental or Mexican in heritage. Don was willing to bet that not one of them spoke a word of English. He called out the positions of the guards to his teams and started the countdown. On three both teams crashed through the doors simultaneously taking full advantage of the element of surprise all shouting "Freeze FBI!".

One of the guards in the front wheeled around and pointed his weapon at Don but dropped to the floor half a second later when David put a round into his chest. The guard closest to Don was slower and Don covered the distance between them before he could bring his weapon to bear, tackling the man to the ground and ordering him to freeze while holding his Glock to the man's temple.

The guards in the rear managed to fire off several rounds bringing Don's attention momentarily away from his prisoner. One of his men went down with three rounds, point blank, center mass to the vest. Don's heart plummeted when he saw Davenport hit the floor but the guard who had shot him was brought down by another agent. The distraction was enough for the man that Don had tackled to grab a handful of saw dust on the floor. He twisted his body under Don and threw it in the agent's face choking and blinding him long enough to squirm out from underneath and make a run for the door.

Don coughed and spat out the sawdust trying to clear his vision, as he stood quickly and chased after the escaping guard. The man was almost at the top of a seven-foot fence ready to go over when Don put on a burst of speed and leapt up grabbing the man by his jacket and pulling both of them down to the ground. As Don fell he executed a perfect three-point landing and rolled into the fall coming up lightly to his feet with his gun extended and ready. The guard, however, hit the ground hard and with a loud snap in the region of his right ankle he crashed to the pavement in a crumpled heap screaming in pain. David had run out after Don and came up along side the downed man, covering him with his gun while Don kicked his weapon away from his reach.

Looking over at David, Don asked, "You got him?"

At David's nod, Don ran back to the warehouse to check on his downed man. He charged through the double doors noting with grim satisfaction that all of the guards had been neutralized and taken into custody as well as the workers. He wasn't happy that his team had suffered a casualty however, and he marched straight back to Megan and the rear assault team.

"Davenport! How bad is it? Do we have an ambulance on the way?"

Megan was kneeling over the unconscious agent lying on the floor. They had managed to get his vest off and she was just raising his shirt to inspect the damage and spoke over her shoulder to her SAC.

"We've got a bus on the way. It looks like broken ribs but I don't like the sound of his breathing. He took those hits at close range, Don."

Don knelt down as well and looked at the junior agent's chest which was already discoloring with an ugly set of backface signature bruises. The man's breathing did sound ragged and Don was hoping that broken ribs were the worst of his troubles. Agent Davenport's eyes fluttered open and he groaned and tried to roll to his side. Don laid a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Whoa there, Mitch. Just lay back and take it easy. An ambulance will be here in a few minutes."

Don was about to say something else when his ear piece crackled. It was Wilcop asking if the scene was secured. When Don said that it had been and told Wilcop to send in the transport van for the suspects he was not prepared to be interrupted by the TAC Van driver with news of a nine one one communication for him. Megan's earpiece also picked up the transmission and she looked at Don with a startled expression.

The initiation of a nine one one communication to the field when a team was in an operational situation could only mean that there was a dire emergency elsewhere. Seeing the startled expression on her senior agent's face slowly turn to a seeping dread she said, "Go; I've got this."

"Take it easy, Mitch."

Don got up and walked purposefully out the front of the warehouse and back toward the tactical van parked a half a block away; his concern growing with each step until he was closing the distance between himself and the van at a fast trot. When he got there he whipped open the back door of the van just as Wilcop was closing communication with the transport vehicle; then turning to Don Wilcop spoke quickly and quietly.

"Don, I got a code nine eleven for you just a few minutes ago from Agent Granger. He said that you have a family member in critical condition and the doctors need family consent to proceed."

Don didn't even hesitate or ask any other questions as he reached under his vest, pulled out his cell phone, and dialed Colby's number.

"Colby, what happened to Charlie? Where are you?"

After securing his prisoner and speaking briefly with Megan, David had followed Don out to the van and watched as Wilcop moved off to help with the extraction of the guards and workers to the transport vehicle that had pulled up to the front of the warehouse. His anxiety grew when he saw Don's face go deadly pale. There seemed to be a pause in the conversation on the phone as Don whispered to himself. "Oh, God, Charlie. This can't be happening."

David's fear at the look on Don's face and his suddenly limp posture as if defeated nearly prompted him to interrupt and ask what was happening, but just as he was about to do so, Don stood up a little straighter and seemed to listen more intently.

"This is Don Eppes.  
Charlie is my brother... what's going on?  
...  
Yes, Doctor Aaron, I understand.  
How dangerous is this procedure?  
...  
Okay, I mean I guess you should go ahead with the spinal tap.  
No, he doesn't have any allergies to foods or drugs.  
He had a migraine this morning and  
...  
yes he seemed to have some trouble concentrating.  
You have to understand how unusual that is for my brother.  
...  
I'll contact our father and get him here. I would rather he be home before Charlie has that kind of surgery.  
I'm on my way; do what ever you need to for him, doctor, but I want to be there to see him before any major decisions are made about his treatment.  
I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Don hung up the phone, and sank bonelessly down on the rear bumper of the tactical van. He closed his eyes against the early afternoon sunshine and seemed to have forgotten that he was not alone as he whispered to himself, "Hang in there, Buddy."

Don raised his head and looked up at David who had worry etched all over his face. "I have to get to UCLA medical center right now."

David almost regretted asking as pain and sorrow filled his boss's eyes. "What is it Don? What happened to Colby and Charlie?"

The fact that David, of all people, had mentioned Colby's name first registered with him but the situation at hand pushed that observation to the back of his mind. "An aneurysm ruptured in Charlie's brain. That's what the headache and confusion were all about this morning." Don suddenly sounded panicked and his eyes were wild for a moment. "Oh God, David; I'm gonna lose him!"

"Don, listen to me; if he is at UCLA then he is in the best hands possible. I'll drive while you contact your dad."

Don called his father as soon as they got on the road. He was actually glad that David was driving because he would have had trouble navigating the choked 110 while talking to his father about this. Alan answered his phone right away and he sounded so relaxed that Don felt a twinge of guilt giving him such devastating news. Don explained everything to him that he had been told by the doctor then voiced his trepidation about giving consent for surgery. He thought that his father might freak out or become mildly hysterical but rather the opposite happened. Alan spoke to his oldest in a calm yet authoritative and determined voice.

"Donnie, if Charlie is incapable of making decisions for himself then he is relying on you to do that for him. Listen to what the doctors have to say and make the call. I know you'll do the right thing. I'm catching what ever flight I can get today and I should be there sometime tonight. Keep me informed if you can, and I'll see you later, son."

Don was continually astonished by his father. The uncertainty that he was feeling dissipated somewhat after what his father had said to him and he was quite certain that was what Alan had in mind. He was right, Don had to pull it together because his brother was depending on him. He hung up the phone and sat back against the seat wishing that they could move just a little faster.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

It took just over an hour to get to UCLA rather than the twenty minutes that he wanted because of a major accident at the junction of the 110 and the Santa Monica Freeway. Traffic was gridlocked for five miles in all directions around the jackknifed semi that had rolled over the ramp from the 110 to the 10. While they sat in bumper-to-bumper traffic, Don took the time to contact Amita at Cal Sci. He didn't share all the details with her; only telling her that Charlie was at UCLA Medical Center and that she should track down Larry and meet him there. Don was practically ready to chew every fingernail right down to the nail bed by the time they got clear of the congestion and were able to get off the freeway.

Colby met both of them in the ER waiting room and told them that as far as he knew Charlie was still in the Radiology department having the angiogram done. Don wanted to speak to the doctor that had treated Charlie so Colby led him up to the front desk and introduced him to the registrar, who had become quite familiar with the younger agent. She disappeared for a few moments before coming back out and instructing Don only to go through the doors to the emergency department.

David and Colby both patted him on the shoulders and told him they would be waiting; then turned to take seats in the waiting room. Don moved over to the automatic doors and waited for the registrar to push the button behind her desk that operated them. As they opened, a middle-aged man in a long white lab coat approached with his hand extended.

"Agent Eppes?"

Don took the hand and affirmed his greeting before he continued. "I'm Doctor Aaron. Could you come with me? I want to introduce you to the neurosurgeon who has been consulting on your brother's case. Charlie has finished with the Radiology department and is being transported to the Neurological ICU right now."

Doctor Aaron led Don through the large ER passing exam room after exam room until they reached the rear of the department and turned down a short corridor to the left. After two more turns, they entered a large office filled with computer screens where a small man stood peering at images on several of the wall mounted monitors. The neurosurgeon who was assigned to Charlie's case was a Chinese national with an unpronounceable last name, who had grown up and had been educated in London. Doctor Xinfeng Shi had people call him Bill for obvious reasons and Don was more than happy to go with that.

Doctor Bill was one of the best neurosurgeons in the country, according to what Doctor Aaron told him as they walked back to this office, and given the fact that there was little choice in the matter he went with that as well. Standing in Doctor Bill's office with almost macabre images of Charlie's brain reflecting back at him from the wall, Don felt strangely surreal. He didn't have too much trouble deciphering the fact that these images were clearly blood vessels in his brother's brain. There was a large bulge in the fork of one of those vessels that obviously didn't belong, and Don assumed that this represented the aneurysm. It looked enormous to him, but he didn't really know what enormous was in a case like this. The agent was so immersed in looking at the images of the thing that had robbed Charlie of his ability to move, see and think and could even take his brother's life that he didn't hear the doctor when he started talking.

"... classified as a giant."

"Excuse me? I'm sorry, could you please start over? This is a lot to take in all at once."

Doctor Bill indicated that Don should take a seat. "Certainly, Agent Eppes. I quite understand. These images show the aneurysm in your brother's middle cerebral artery. Because of its size, it is classified as a giant, which would be any aneurysm over 2.5 centimeters. Unfortunately in Charlie's case this is... well a giant _giant_ measuring 4.6 centimeters."

Don almost didn't want to hear the answer to his next question, but knew, that he had to have that answer. "Please be honest with me doctor. Is this aneurysm... is it going to..." Don took a steadying breath. "Is Charlie going to die?"

"Don,... may I call you Don?" Don nodded mutely to that question. "Don, this aneurysm, at its current size, is inoperable. The two most common methods of surgical intervention are the use of clamps on either side of the aneurysm or endovascular coiling into the lesion itself. In your brother's case, clamping is the preferable method to use based on his physical examination, age, risk factors and the characteristics of this particular aneurysm. I will be completely honest with you; the mortality rate of an aneurysm of this size is exceptionally high."

Dr. Bill paused for a moment to let that bit of information sink in. "There is a technique that is somewhat radical, however, and can greatly increase Charlie's chances of recovery."

Don sat forward in his seat as though he were a drowning man reaching for a lifeline. "What does it entail and how much better are his chances with it?"

"The only way to surgically clamp off an aneurysm of this size would be to occlude the vessel's blood flow to drain the aneurysm, making it smaller. Then clamps can be affixed to either side of the weakening or a resection can be done at that point. The problem with stopping the blood flow is the fact that this is how strokes occur. No matter how fast I work we are risking a cataclysmic infarction that could either render Charlie incapacitated for the rest of his life or might possibly kill him."

Don seemed to melt in his seat. This was the most devastating news he had ever heard in his life. His genius brother would never be the same again. He would either be dead or have to live the rest of his life in some sort of nursing facility having everything done for him. That was no life at all, and if that were to be the outcome then as much as he hated to think it, Don would have preferred that Charlie died on that operating table. Doctor Bill watched Don as all of these things flitted through his mind in the space of a moment.

"If however we induce a state of deep hypothermia his chances of an ischemic event decrease dramatically. Brain temperatures markedly influence the consequences of cerebral ischemia, and a reduction of core temperature may confer significant cerebral protection. Various studies have shown that hypothermia can be beneficial for stroke patients and febrile patients. Basically the hypothermia gives us more time to work and your brother is an excellent candidate for the procedure.

Don just looked at the man, stunned into silence for a few minutes. "An excellent candidate? He isn't some science project, he's my brother."

"I didn't mean to imply that he was anything other than someone you love deeply and want the best for. I say that he is an excellent candidate because he is young, strong and otherwise in excellent health. I would never attempt this procedure on an elderly or seriously infirmed patient because they would most likely not survive the hypothermia."

Don realized that he was being a little petulant but this idea scared him. "Let me see if I understand this correctly. You want to lower Charlie's body temperature to a point where he is hypothermic. You want to do this on purpose to help to keep him alive while you cut into his brain? Is that right? And you need me to give consent for you to do this. Have I got all the facts in there?"

"I understand that this is a lot to absorb all at once, but yes, that is essentially what I am asking you to do."

Don rubbed his hand down his face still not knowing what he should do. "I want to see my brother before I make any decisions about this."

* * *

Charlie lay utterly still in the bed of the neuro ICU, which unnerved Don a little. A nurse was sitting at a small table near the head of the bed writing notes in a chart and she glanced up when Don entered.

"He was given a short-acting but deep sedation for the diagnostic tests. He'll wake up if you call out to him but don't be surprised if he doesn't make sense. His mental status has been altered due to the pressure the aneurysm is putting on his brain." Don seemed hesitant to approach the bed so she encouraged him. "Go ahead and have a seat next to him. Touch his arm, give him a shake and speak clearly; he should respond. Actually I'm glad you came in just now because I was about to try and rouse him again."

Don sat down next to his brother as the woman had instructed but he turned a confused look in her direction. "Why do you have to wake him?"

Smiling she replied, "One of the things I need to do is to continually assess his neurological status. I need to speak to him, test for weakness in his limbs by getting him to squeeze my fingers and to assess his mental state. I can just observe while you talk to him unless you need some privacy for a few minutes."

"No it's okay, you don't have to leave."

Don might normally have desired privacy but after hearing terms like 'altered mental state' and 'neurological status' he was fairly certain that he didn't want to be alone with his brother in case something happened. In all of his years as an FBI agent, he had never been this frightened. Charlie, was suddenly in a situation where his genius could be taken away from him, leaving an empty shell behind or worse, in a split second that light could be extinguished forever. It was utterly unfair. After years of misunderstanding each other, they had come to a place where they worked and lived in harmony and he had found in his brother the most unlikely friend. Of all of the people in his life, Charlie was the one person he was the most comfortable with, the most at ease around. He could let down his guard when he was with his brother in a way that he couldn't with anyone else including Liz or even his father and the thought of losing him was terrifying. Don took Charlie's left hand firmly in his grasp and gave his shoulder a shake.

"Hey, Buddy, time to wake up."

Just as the nurse had said, Charlie roused but he was groggy and his speech was slurred. It wasn't how he sounded but what the young man said that tightened the knot of dread in the agent's gut. Charlie's eyes fluttered open for a moment and turned in Don's direction, followed by a frown as he turned his head away. "Go away, I told you I'm not going!"

Don didn't have a clue what that meant but fear for Charlie spurred his next words. "What are you talking about, Buddy? Where aren't you going?"

Charlie pulled his hand away from Don and tried to turn on his side away from him but he seemed stopped by a sudden pain the movement caused. "You knew I was gonna ask her to the prom. I hate you, get out!"

Don looked up helplessly at the nurse sitting there. She was writing furiously in the chart but sensed Don's silent plea. "Talk to him about something current. Bring his mind back to the present."

Just as she said this David stepped into the room as well and quietly said that Amita had arrived. Don took Charlie's arm and shook him again because he had fallen asleep once more.

"Hey, Charlie, David's here."

Charlie never turned his head to face Don or David but his words were a little clearer than the first time. "David's an idiot!"

"Charlie!"

"He's wasting time! So much wasted time..."

Charlie's voice trailed off and Don looked up at David apologetically. "It's the aneurysm. He doesn't know what he's saying."

David was about to tell Don not to worry about it when Charlie started talking again. "He is throwing away his best friend over what; pride?"

David paused, staring, then bowed his head and slumped his shoulders a little. The nurse noticed the obvious body language of the tall man in the doorway and realized that this wasn't some off-the-wall ranting by her patient. That was actually a good sign and she started to write that his altered mental status had improved a little as the Fentanyl began to wear off.

"Pride made the angels into devils." Charlie let out a chuckle at that. "Just picture David... with a little pitch fork... and a Snidely Whiplash mustache."

Charlie's voice became quieter as he spoke and by the time he finished he had fallen back to sleep. David was staring at him with an unreadable look on his face then turned to leave without saying anything to Don.

Don was going to try to rouse Charlie again when the young man suddenly opened his eyes turned his head toward Don. There was recognition in his eyes and for a wonderful shining moment, the Charlie that Don knew was looking back at him.

"Hey, Buddy. How're you feeling?"

"Don, you're here. They need you to sign something."

"Hey, don't worry I took care of all of that. You just concentrate on getting better, okay?"

"I don't know what's wrong with me. I keep getting confused and forgetting things." Suddenly Charlie grabbed Don's arm with surprising strength. "Listen to me while I'm here. This is important, Don. In my desk at Cal Sci - bottom drawer - left hand side. I should have done this already... maybe I did and I don't remember. No... no that's not it. I... Don, make sure you give it to her. Make sure Amita gets it, please."

The strength seemed to drain out of him and he dropped his hand from Don's arm breathing slightly heavily. He rocked his head slightly from side to side whispering to himself.

"So much wasted time. God, I'm so stupid!"

Tears began to form in Charlie's eyes threatening to drop down the sides of his face. He turned to look at Don and one did fall.

"All of those years we spent on anger; resentment or just plain indifference. Those years are lost; we'll never get them back. It was the same with Mom. I hid away from her and lost the last months of her life. That's time I can never reclaim. Now with Amita... I should have already done this but I was waiting for the right time."

Tears began to fall rapidly as Charlie turned the focus of his comments to Amita and Don was unprepared for the terror shining in his brother's eyes. "I'm scared, Don" he whispered. "I don't want to die."

Don looked his brother straight in the eyes and spoke in the most confident voice he could muster. "You're not gonna die, Charlie. I promise."

He knew that was a promise that was not in his power to make, but he also knew that was exactly what Charlie needed to hear, spoken by the big brother that he had always looked up to. Don's lie was rewarded by a calm resolution that replaced the stark terror in Charlie's eyes before he closed them, drifting back to sleep.

* * *

**A/N - **I just looked over chapter six and it is too short and a bit thin for my standards so I want to do a little work on it before I post it. It shouldn't be more than a couple of days for me to do that however.  
I am very happy that you are likeing this story and if you are enjoying it please take a moment to leave some impressions. You know how much we authors live for reviews! LOL 


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Don looked up at the nurse and told her that he wanted to bring someone else in; someone that Charlie _needed_ to see. When she nodded her approval, he stood up silently and left for the waiting room where he found Amita, Larry and his whole team waiting. As soon as Amita saw Don and the look on his face, she felt her heart drop. As he approached her she felt the urge to back away, fearing what he was about to say. He stopped in front of her and took her arm gently, pulling her aside.

"Amita, Charlie needs to see you."

That sounded to her like a pronouncement of his doom and she could not stop the tears that started falling. "Do you know how much he loves you?" he asked quietly, and she nodded through her tears, with pain and gratitude mingling on her face.

Without another word, Don led her to the ICU room. Charlie had drifted back to sleep again and Don shook him to rouse him. Don had allowed Amita to sit down on Charlie's left side so that he would be able to see her more easily, while he moved to his right. When Charlie opened his eyes, he had an almost crazed look in them, as if he didn't recognize where he was or who was around him. "Hey, Buddy. It's okay, I'm right here."

Charlie tried to raise his right hand and reach for Don but he seemed too uncoordinated to accomplish that simple task and his arm dropped like lead to the mattress. Charlie became panicked by this inability to function and started rambling in a frightened voice. "The drag coefficient is all wrong. If I'm submerged, where's the water? I'm not wet; how come I'm not wet? Don, where'd the water go?"

Don saw the panic engulfing his brother so he leaned over and held his face between his hands looking directly into his eyes. "Charlie stop! You are all right. Just look at me and listen to my voice. There's no water, Charlie. You're in the hospital and there is someone here to see you."

Don looked up at Amita who wore an expression of horror on her face. Don continued to speak to Charlie but looked at Amita, trying to get her to school her expression before she made Charlie any more frantic. "Amita has come to see you, Charlie so you need to focus." His gaze moved back to Charlie's face as he continued. "Can you do that for me, Buddy?"

The nearly feral look receded from Charlie's eyes when Don said that Amita was there. Her name registered somewhere in his mind that was deeper or stronger than the pressure-induced dementia. After a moment, Charlie looked much more in control and he croaked "Don?" His eyes opened wider as recognition seemed to flood him. "Don, you're here. They need you to do something... sign something, I think."

Don felt the knife of fear twist in his gut as his brother echoed the words that he had spoken only fifteen minutes ago. Charlie didn't even remember him being there. He looked up at the nurse and wasn't surprised to see her writing in the chart. This couldn't be good, but at this moment in time, Charlie seemed lucid, although he knew that could change in a heartbeat.

"Charlie, Amita is here."

Don had let go of Charlie's face and he turned his head to the left. By this time, Amita had wiped her tears and smiled lovingly at him. A smile, that reached his eyes, graced Charlie's lips when he saw her and that smile turned to an expression of pure joy when she leaned over and kissed him lightly.

"You look like an angel," he whispered.

Charlie turned back to Don and gave him a look of gratitude before he stepped out quietly. Heading back to the waiting room Don felt more drained than he ever thought would be possible. He knew that he had to make a decision soon and that Charlie was counting on him; he just wished that his father were there, so that he could allow Alan to sign the consent that might take his brother's life away.

Don didn't usually seek assistance or opinions when he had to make a decision. As the SAC of the Violent Crimes Squad, it was his job to make command decisions even when they involved people he cared about, like Liz, but this was different. He was sailing in uncharted waters without a compass here. He knew, though, that Larry and the rest of his team were all there because they loved Charlie and wanted to support him, so he decided to tell them about the decision he had been forced to make. Don sat down and explained everything that Doctor Bill had told him about Charlie's aneurysm and about the radical idea of lowering Charlie's body temperature for the surgery. Larry nodded his head as Don finished, earning him a questioning stare.

"Induced hypothermia; it makes sense. With a lowered core temperature, the metabolism of the body as well as the brain decreases dramatically. If the blood flow to Charlie's brain is interrupted while his core temperature is lowered he has a better chance of avoiding a cascade ischemic failure."

Don had to smile at that. "So, Larry, when did you branch out from cosmology to medicine?"

Larry looked back at the agent utterly nonplussed and replied, "Part of my training before I went up in the space station dealt with hypothermic situations due to the intrinsic nature of space and its ambient temperature... or lack thereof." The look on Don's face prompted Larry to continue. "Please don't misunderstand me, Don. I am fully aware of how dangerous this situation is for Charles, and I am aptly concerned for his recovery but what the neuro surgeon is suggesting may give him his best chance of surviving this aneurysm."

Don didn't need to hear any more. Charlie had to have this surgery or he would die for sure. There was no reason for him to be waffling about this decision any longer so he stood and told the others that he need to go and speak with Charlie's doctor and contact his father.

For a moment after Don left; Colby, David, Megan and Larry just stood there, somewhat shell-shocked. The notion that Charlie could be gone in an instant seemed to reverberate with each of them on some level. Larry wondered for a moment why he seemed to be handling this news better than the others were as he took in their expressions. Charlie was his student, his prodigy and his best friend, but he did not seem to fear losing him the same way the others did. He understood all too well how precarious his young friend's situation was but he found that he had complete faith that he would come out of this experience well and whole. Looking into Megan's eyes, he could clearly see her fear and distress in the shimmering tears she tried to hide. Taking her hand gently, he quietly suggested that they go down to the cafeteria to get coffee for everyone and she was more than happy to go along. She needed something to do even if it was something as trivial as buying half a dozen cups of coffee.

When Larry and Megan left the lounge, David and Colby found themselves alone. An awkward silence fell over them for neither was willing to leave, yet they had barely spoken two words to each other since Colby's return. David watched as his former partner took a seat at the far end of one of the long sofas in the lounge, wondering how he should approach Colby; Charlie's words echoing in his mind.

_'David's an idiot! He is throwing away his best friend over what; pride?'_

David stepped over to the glass wall that separated the lounge from short hallway leading to the nursing station in the ICU. He couldn't see Charlie's room from this vantage point but he pictured the young man lying in that bed in his mind's eye. Charlie's disjointed words about pride hammered at him like castigation for his stubborn refusal to forgive his best friend. He could feel tears of anger and regret stinging the back of his eyes as he tried to remember a time when he didn't feel betrayed by Colby. One thing he wouldn't do was to allow those tears to fall. He vowed to himself that he would never allow Colby Granger or anyone else, for that matter, to elicit that reaction from him again, after the night his partner was arrested and confessed to being a spy for the Chinese.

David realized that this was a big part of his problem. He had not discussed this with the department psychiatrist yet. He had only seen him once and that session was more about information gathering and feeling each other out than anything else. Don and Megan were right about his anger. He had been angry for months. It had cost him his relationship with Claudia, it had interfered with his objectivity on the job; it had changed the type of man that he was, the type of agent he was. He had an appointment the next day with the psychologist and he now knew what they would be talking about. David refocused his eyes so that rather than looking down the hallway to the ICU he was looking at the reflection of Colby in the glass. With a resigned sigh, he turned and approached his former partner.

The last thing Colby expected when he took a seat was for David to sit down next to him, especially given the fact that they were the only two people in the ICU lounge and there were plenty of seats on the other side of the room. When David actually initiated conversation with him, Colby felt a twinge of suspicion, which surprised him.

"This is so unbelievable, huh?"

Colby just looked at David as though he were growing horns out of his ears for a moment. "Yeah, it sucks royally. Charlie's a good man; he doesn't deserve this."

Colby sounded almost defensive toward David, as if he would disagree that Charlie was a good man. David knew in his heart that the tone had nothing to do with Charlie and everything to do with their destroyed relationship. Not knowing what else to say David asked, "So what are you gonna do about D.C.?"

Colby was no longer feeling suspicious, just angry and resentful. After the shit attitude that David had thrown at him since his return he was feeling less than inclined to engage in idle small talk. He knew that his former partner had reason to be upset; they all did, but everyone else had moved on, everyone except David. Colby stood up abruptly and glared down at him.

"Charlie is my friend, David. He is in serious trouble right now and he asked me to stay, which I have every intention of doing. Whether you feel like believing it or not, I _am_ loyal to my friends! And, David, I always _have_ been!"

Colby didn't wait for an answer and stalked out of the lounge nearly running into Larry and Megan as they returned with the coffee. Megan saw immediately that David looked both shocked and embarrassed. She couldn't help remembering what she had said to him only a week ago about his behavior where Colby was concerned.

_'Look, this has been hard on all of us, David. And your attitude is starting to piss me off just a little. I don't like the fact that Colby lied to us for the last two years, but what exactly did he lie about? He had a job to do; he was working undercover trying to ferret out the mole and had to protect that cover. But that doesn't mean that every moment of every day was a lie or that his friendship was a lie. Maybe you just need to get over yourself long enough to see the big picture!'_

But she also realized that confronting him again would be useless and could cause more harm than good especially now that they were all faced with the prospect of losing someone so close to all of them, so she simply decided to ignore it and handed one of the cups to David. She was thankful that Larry took his cue from her and refrained from mentioning anything about Colby's abrupt departure to David.

By the time Don came back Colby had returned, though he stood rather than sat and positioned himself as far from David as he could, and still be physically present. Don was pleased to find that Larry had also gone in to see Charlie, and that he reported that the mathematician was still fairly coherent, although given the fact that there were times that Don had no idea what the cosmologist was saying he wasn't entirely sure how comforting that was. They all looked up expectantly at Don wanting to know what the next step was.

"I have signed consent for the surgery. Dad is flying in, he'll be here in three hours, I need someone..."

"I'll go." Colby said without preamble and though Colby didn't see it because his back was turned, Don saw David's head snap up.

Deciding to ignore the silent battle that obviously was still going on between the two of them, Don placed a hand on Colby's shoulder and nodded. "Thanks, Colby; really, thank you for everything, for taking care of Charlie and getting him here. From what I've been told, you may have saved his life. If he had been alone... if he had been driving..." Don had to stop and collect himself a little. Getting emotional right now would do no one any good. "Look I know you missed your flight to D.C. Tomorrow, I'll make a call and explain..."

"Don't worry about it, Don. You have your hands full here. I can take care of D.C."

No more words needed to be exchanged between them so Don turned to the others. "They are going to start to lower Charlie's body temperature now. The surgery will take place in two to three hours. I'm hoping that my father will be here before they start but by then Charlie won't be able to respond to him at all. They are going to sedate him heavily when they force him into hypothermia so that he doesn't start to shiver, which would be counter-productive. The surgery itself will take at least four to six hours so I suggest that everyone take off and get some rest and get something to eat."

Larry turned to put an arm around Amita, who was reluctant to go anywhere, to guide her to the door when Don stepped over to them. "Amita, I... look I don't know how with-it Charlie is right now but I really think that he should see you one more time. Would you stay with me here until they put him under?"

The gratitude in her eyes was answer enough for Don. While the others filed out of the ICU lounge, Don and Amita turned and headed back to Charlie's room. They sat with him for a few minutes before the sedation was administered. Don wanted to back off and give them some privacy but both Charlie and Amita wanted him to stay. Charlie seemed more lucid now than he had when Don first saw him, which seemed somehow encouraging to him

While Don was explaining everything out in the lounge, they had removed all of Charlie's clothes and covered him in a large puffy white plastic blanket -like sheet that cold air was being pumped into. It looked almost like something you might see on a space ship. As the sedation was administered and he began to drift off, Don and Amita sat and watching him toss and turn, as he became more and more agitated. The nurse explained that it was not uncommon for this sort of restlessness to manifest, since the hemorrhage was essentially an insult to his brain, and that was what was causing his behavior. She assured them that once the sedation completely took effect he would simply look as though he were sleeping.

After only a few minutes Charlie lay utterly still, just as Don had first seen him in that bed. The thought that he might never see his brother whole and sound again almost made him change his mind about the whole thing, but he knew that this had to be done. Holding Amita's hand more tightly than he realized, he sat there and stared at his younger brother until the only sound that filled his ears was the hum of the air pump being used to fill the cooling blanket with freezing air.

Don was so focused on Charlie as he slowly lost color in his face and lips that he never noticed the tear that dropped down his face or the warmth of the petite hand he was holding. He didn't need to fear that Amita would see his weakness, however; her vision was also blurred with emotion. They sat there together, joined by a common fear, the same desperate prayer in both of their hearts.

* * *

**A/N - **Well I hope that _this_ chapter six met with your expectations. I am a lot happier with it now, than when I posted chapter five and took a quick look at six. My impression at that point in time was:

"Oh my God, this sucks!"

Now I must warn you to be ready. Chapter seven will leave you a little mad at me, but then again that's half the fun of reading these stories isn't it?

Thank you to all of my unregistered reviewers. I have been trying to keep up with replies to reviews but there are some of you I can't reply to directly; so I'll do that here. Thank you again for your great comments and impressions. It actually helps me to know what to delete and what to add when I am looking at a chapter and saying to myself "Oh my God, this sucks!" LOL


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

By the time Alan arrived at LAX, it was nearly six in the evening and Charlie's surgery had already begun. Alan wasn't surprised to find that it was Colby who was picking him up, figuring that it would take wild horses to drag his eldest from the hospital until the surgery was over. He had been strong and confident on the phone with Don because he felt that that was his role to play in this family crisis, but in truth, he felt as though his heart would explode when Don told him what had happened. He had slowly come to terms with the death of his wife five years ago but he wasn't sure how he would deal with the death of a child.

While he had waited to board his flight from Sacramento he took some time to get on line at one of the airport Cyber Cafe's and looked up as much information about Charlie's condition as possible. Frankly what he found scared the hell out of him. According to the neurovascular center at Massachusetts General Hospital and the Harvard Medical School, his son's chances of survival were slim. As he read, he thought that Charlie would have liked the article that he'd found. It was full of percentages and facts about giant aneurysms, such as, giant aneurysms represent about 5-8 of all intracranial aneurysms, 25 of patients present with subarachnoid hemorrhage, and 75 of patients present with mass effect, which includes visual failure, cranial nerve dysfunction, hemiparesis, seizure or headache. By the time Alan finished reading about all of the dreadful outcomes he wished he had never looked anything up at all; understanding completely, that ignorance truly _was_ bliss at times like this.

He knew perfectly well that he still needed to be strong and hold himself together, but his reading had made that an onerous task indeed. He couldn't image how difficult it had been for Don to bear the mantle of responsibility for giving consent for Charlie's surgery. He knew his eldest very well and realized that he would most likely blame himself if things went poorly for his brother. Don had always felt somewhat responsible for Charlie and Alan knew that it was partly his fault. How many times while they were young had Alan expected Don to keep an eye on Charlie, or to look after him? Now as adults, that was simply an ingrained belief and behavioral set that he had helped to create. If Charlie died or became incapacitated for the rest of his life, Don would forever blame himself, and Alan had forced that on him not only by his upbringing but by assuring his eldest that he trusted him to 'do the right thing'. With a sigh, Alan decided that he needed to steer his musings away from such thoughts and turned to look at Colby quietly driving.

"Don told me that you were the one who got Charlie safely to the hospital. I thank you for that."

Colby was taken off guard by Alan's comment, and in truth a little irritated by it. The older man had been quiet since they left the airport and he allowed the companionable silence to descend in the car. He was also immersed in his own thoughts about his last words to David in the ICU lounge. He was beginning to wonder why people seemed to think he wouldn't stay to see Charlie and his family through this crisis.

"Mr. Eppes, there is nothing to thank me for. Charlie was obviously very ill, what else would I have done?"

"Oh I know, but it helps me to say thank you to you. You see, Colby it gives me a focus for my thoughts, a channel to siphon off some of this worry. Thank goodness you were there to take him to the hospital. If he had been alone, this day could have turned out so much differently."

Alan hadn't realized that he had taken on an almost mentoring tone of voice. He used the same tone when he was trying to explain his point of view to one of his sons when they were upset about something. Colby really appreciated this from the elder Eppes. It eased his doubts quite a bit and it was the kind of thing his own father might have said to him. He suddenly missed his father more acutely than he had in years. Alan misunderstood the silence and assumed that he had upset or embarrassed the young man.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to..."

"No it's okay, Mr. Eppes. It's just... well you are a great father and it made me miss mine a little, especially now."

Alan frowned slightly at that then thought back to some of the things he had seen and heard since Colby's change in status. He realized what part of this was about and decided to see if he could help.

"Oh I see. So I take it you and David are still having a bit of difficulty coming to terms with each other."

Colby wondered if the man were telepathic or something. He didn't think he had given anything away just then. He had a sudden and bizarre notion that Alan might have known that he was under cover all along if he could read him so easily now; then just as quickly dismissed that thought as ludicrous.

"Well David is pretty upset with me. He still doesn't trust me and a part of me understands that..."

"But?"

"But a bigger part is angry with him for being so stubborn. It's not like I went looking for this. This assignment was dumped on me because I was the one to turn Dwayne in to my superiors. Because of the nature of his relationship with me, they felt that I was the best-placed person to get more information out of him and find the mole he was working with. I didn't like spying on my friends... hell I never expected to find friends here. I can't tell you how many times I wanted to tell David or to quit but I couldn't. I had a duty to fulfill; orders to follow. Why can't David see that? Why can't he acknowledge that this isn't something I wanted to do? Why can't he see that I got hurt in this too? I lost my best friend!"

Colby stopped talking for a moment when he heard the sound of his own voice. He had actually begun shouting and that was the last thing that Alan Eppes needed at that moment.

"I'm sorry. I... that was out of line. You don't need my issues on top of your own problems."

Alan waved his hand at the young agent saying, "No this is exactly what I need. Colby have you tried talking to David, telling him what you just told me?"

"Actually, yes I have. When he came to the hospital to see me I told him pretty much what I just said to you. He said that he needed time."

"Oh, I see... and that was what, a week ago, right?"

Colby had to smile and nodded at the older man. One week to process the fact that your best friend wasn't actually a traitor working for the Chinese but an under-cover operative whose job was to ferret out a high-placed traitor in the government. The fact that this best friend had lied to him for the better part of two years was kind of a lot to expect the man to 'get over' in the space of only one week.

"Yeah, I think I see your point."

"Then I guess I haven't lost my touch yet." A smile softened the lines of worry in Alan's face. "Give it time, son. Give it time."

* * *

When Alan and Colby arrived at the hospital, it was nearly seven thirty. They had run into the end of day commuter traffic and inched their way along the Santa Monica Freeway. During the long ride Colby and Alan spoke openly and freely about his issues with David which gave him a new perspective on the problem and about Colby's father. Alan found that talking to Colby about his father and David was a helpful diversion for his own emotional stress level so that when they walked into the ICU lounge, where Don and Amita had decided to wait, he felt much stronger and in control. 

As soon as Don saw his father, he walked right over to him and in a rare display of public affection enveloped him in a huge bear hug. Colby saw the lines of strain on Don's face the moment they walked in and he gently and quietly steered Amita out of the lounge to go get coffee for the Eppes men, giving the family some privacy. Alan hugged his son back then held him at arms length, taking in the lines of strain in his eldest's face and the uncertainty in his eyes.

"Donnie, you did the right thing. You did what I would have done. It's all in God's hands now."

Don frowned slightly and tipped his head to the side. He knew that his father was not an atheist but he had seldom heard him invoke the name of God. As he looked into his father's eyes he saw strength and confidence reflected back and that eased the uncertainty in his own heart.

Colby felt a little out of his element as he escorted Amita to the hospital cafeteria; she looked like a wreck emotionally. He didn't know her as well as Megan or Don and wasn't sure how to comfort her so he simply sat with her quietly offering silent support as she dabbed at wet eyes while she sipped her coffee.

"I'm sorry, I just feel so helpless right now," she said, as she sniffled loudly and blew her nose.

"Don't be sorry; I know exactly how you feel. Charlie scared the hell out of me when we left the office and he got so sick. He's a strong guy, Amita and just as stubborn as Don; he'll be okay."

Amita had to laugh just a little at that comment. She knew all too well how utterly stubborn Charlie could be. "Stubborn is an understatement when it comes to Charlie. It's just that when we sat there and watched him fall asleep... I just don't know what I would do if I lost him."

By the time that Colby and Amita returned with cups of coffee, Don was pacing while his father sat calmly waiting. Alan stood and gladly accepted the proffered beverage when they came in, but Don just kept pacing so Colby set his cup on the table in front of the sofa. Colby had to admit that this lounge was quite comfortable as hospital waiting areas went. Instead of hard plastic chairs, there were two sofas that were comfortable enough to sleep on, and five cozy armchairs lining the walls. Short tables sat in between the armchairs with ample surface space for coffee and the current magazines that had been left on most of them. Two long coffee tables also sat in front of each of the sofas. The room was papered in a soft mauve hue with framed pictures hanging on the walls. One was a rather large print of a dazzling sunrise over the desert while the other depicted a forest scene at dusk with tall pine trees looming like silent sentinels along a river valley. The floor was covered in a carpet that was a shade darker than the walls and thicker than one would expect.

This was the kind of room where family and friends waited for long hours, while someone they cared about underwent the delicate surgery of the brain. This was where the doctors would come and make sure you had a soft surface to catch you when they told you that your loved one had died or would be a vegetable for the rest of their lives. Colby had to shake himself mentally to dispel such thoughts. Don seemed to just realize that he was there and turned to him.

"Hey, Man, thanks again for everything. This is gonna take a long time, so why don't you get outta here for awhile."

Colby knew that this wasn't a dismissal but somehow, it made him feel that the distance between himself and everyone here in LA was even greater. He was about to nod his head in silent agreement when he remembered the feeling of Charlie trying to hold his arm with a hand that was too weak to grip and asking him not to go to D.C.

"If you don't mind, Don, I'd like to stay. When Charlie and I were here alone he asked me not to leave and I promised him I wasn't going anywhere. I realize now that you are all here..."

Alan stepped over to the two men and put an arm around Colby's shoulders in a warm and inviting gesture. "Of course you are welcome to stay, Colby. You're part of the family after all."

"Yeah, sure of course. I didn't mean that you had to leave... I just thought after a day like this..." Don added.

Colby waved off the explanation and just said, "Thanks."

He was about to say something else when Don's cell phone rang, interrupting him. Don pulled it from his hip and looked at the number only to exclaim, "Liz! I totally forgot." He flipped open the phone and moved off into a corner of the room to speak to her. After a brief conversation, he hung up and returned to the others.

"Liz was on a stake-out today and didn't know what was going on. When she reported back to the office the rumor mill had it that Charlie was killed or in critical condition from that big accident on the 110 this morning. She's coming down as soon as she finishes her paperwork."

Liz arrived shortly after eight thirty with sandwiches, figuring that none of them had eaten much. She didn't seem surprised to see Colby there and acted as though he were just part of the team, which seemed to bolster his spirits; a fact that was not lost on Don. Both Megan and David called to check on the situation but Don told them to stay at home with the promise that he would call them as soon as he knew anything. Liz was scheduled to have the day off tomorrow and she opted to stay with Don and his family. Amita planted herself on one of the sofas refusing to go anywhere until she got to see Charlie again, and Alan even shrugged off the notion of going home to unpack and take a quick shower.

At eleven forty-five, when Doctor Bill stepped into the ICU lounge, he found all five of them scattered around the room, some dozing, others reading and Don pacing. Don was the first person to notice the small man's entrance and he stopped dead in his tracks, feeling his heart drop to his toes. The man looked tired and worn as though weighted down with terrible news. Don's sudden stillness brought the others to attention and Alan shot to his feet and approached the doctor with purposeful steps.

"I'm Alan Eppes, Charlie's father. How is my son?"

Don was so grateful that his father had said something; he appeared to be frozen to the spot and couldn't seem to make his voice or body work. The diminutive doctor held his hand out to the tall man who stood before him and then indicated that they should take a seat.

"Hello Mr. Eppes, my name is Doctor Xinfeng Shi, but I just have people call me Bill. The surgery went quite well. We didn't encounter any problems with the aneurysm, in other words, there was no more rupture to deal with, and it has been reduced to a very manageable size. We were able to clamp it and resect the vessel successfully."

Don's breath exploded from him. He was so sure that this man was going to tell them that Charlie had died or worse. He didn't even realize that he had been holding his breath and was grateful for the support as Liz gave his hand a squeeze.

"He is out of recovery and is being moved back into the ICU. We are keeping him heavily sedated, however, while we bring his body temperature back up to normal. It only took three hours to lower the temperature but we want to bring him back much more slowly."

At the questioning frown from the elder Eppes the doctor continued. "His cardiovascular system has been stressed with the pain medication, the sedation, the anesthesia and the induced hypothermia. We want to bring him back gradually to further reduce the shock to his system. We are keeping him sedated so that we can prevent severe shivering which is a normal response to the body's core temperature rising. This precaution is because of the delicate nature of neurovascular surgery he just underwent. Until he is fully awake and can be evaluated neurologically, I would prefer that he remain relatively still. Once his core temperature is back up to normal we will stop the sedation and allow him to wake up on his own. This will take all night so I strongly recommend that you all go home and get some rest, you'll need it for tomorrow."

The doctor's words quelled all objections that any of them may have had about going home, but Alan wasn't just going to leave without at least being allowed to see his son. "I would like to see my son before I go home, Doctor."

"Of course, I can allow you to see him for a few minutes. He will not be able to respond to you and I need you to be brief."

The doctor led Don, Alan and Amita into the ICU room where Charlie lay covered in the same white puffy air filled blanket only this time it was being pumped with warm air instead of cold. His face was deathly pale and his lips were slightly bluish making him look like a corpse. This unnerved Alan and Don, but it nearly unhinged Amita who couldn't hold back the sobs bubbling up in her throat.

Alan approached him first and reached under the blanket to find his son's hand. It was also cold and limp intensifying the impression that Charlie wasn't alive, but he could clearly see the heart rate on the monitor above the bed. He touched his son's forehead lightly running his hand over the bandage that ran around his head from the back at the nape of his neck up the sides, across his forehead and around to the other side. The older man didn't say anything, allowing all of his emotion; all of his love to be conveyed in his gentle touch before he stepped back and allowed Amita to come forward.

She had gotten herself under control while Alan held Charlie's hand but she couldn't stop the tears from falling. She held the sides of his face in her hands and leaned over to kiss him tenderly. "I love you, Charlie. Please, you need to come back to me." She kissed him again as fresh tears dropped onto his cheek and rolled down the side of his face giving the impression that he was the one who was crying.

After another moment, she stepped back, aware that she needed to allow Don a moment with his brother. Alan wrapped his arms around her in a comforting gesture hoping one day that he would hug her at their wedding, and prayed silently that it wouldn't be at Charlie's funeral. Don also searched out Charlie's hand under the warming blanket and leaned over to speak softly to him.

"Hang in there, Buddy..."

No one except the doctor had noticed that Charlie's heart rate had increased. He made eye contact with the nurse at the desk who was already getting up to find out what was causing the shift in her patient's vital signs. Meanwhile, Doctor Bill stepped over and started checking the bags of fluids attached to Charlie's IV. Normally the peripheral activity would have caught Don's attention but his focus was drawn to the fact that Charlie had just weakly squeezed his hand back.

"Charlie?"

His eyes began to flutter under closed lids and he started to shake when the heart monitor squealed a loud high pitch as a warning alarm sounded. Don instinctively followed the sound and saw that Charlie heart rate was racing. He looked down at his brother again and saw that his eyes were still closed but his breathing had become staccato and irregular. Two nurses had entered the room and were pushing Alan and Amita out and one grabbed Don's arm saying in a firm voice, "We need you to leave right now, sir."

Don allowed himself to be ushered from the room but couldn't help but eye the heart monitor as the medical staff converged around his brother's bed. He was only marginally aware of Amita shouting "What's wrong, what's happening to him?" when the line that indicated his brother's heart beat suddenly stopped and the only sound the monitor was making was a single high pitched piercing tone.

* * *

Go ahead say it!  
I know, I am such a... ...well you know.  
Cliff hangers are so much fun aren't they? 

Thank you for the reviews everyone!  
MusicDreamer pointed out the "angel" "angel" oops and actually so did my beta, Serialgal. The only problem is the files that were sent to me got mixed up and I didn't get the actual beta'd one until this afternoon. (that would be yesterday to the rest of you day-shifters. LOL)  
I have reloaded chapter six with the beta work done on it. Serialgal fixed a bunch of little grammatical things for me because I wouldn't know a split infinitive if it bit me in the butt!  
Alice I


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N -** I have been rescindent in my duties here. I want to publicly thank Serialgal for the wonderful beta job she is doing for me. She is really quite amazing because even though she had major surgery recently she still takes the time to sit at her trusty computer and beta this story. So KUDOS to Serialgal.  
Also be sure to check out her new story going up called 'A Walk on the Other Side.'  
It's really great.

**Chapter Eight**

The panic button that is equipped in every ICU room was pushed less than a second after Charlie's heart stopped, and the operator came over the hospital intercom with a message that the CPR team needed to report to the Neuro ICU; STAT. Amita screamed and Alan wrapped his arms around her tightly; clinging to her seeking support as much as to give it as they were ushered out of the area. Don stood stock still while the others were escorted to the waiting lounge, refusing to budge. Since he was out of the actual room and far enough from the doorway that he wasn't physically in the way the nurse turned her attention back to her patient who was crashing.

Don stood helplessly by and watched as the warmer blanket was stripped away, leaving Charlie completely exposed until the nurse who had tried to escort him out to the waiting lounge tossed a sheet over his waist, while all sorts of emergency response personnel began to cram into the room. Doctor Bill, who was far too small to apply CPR effectively by standing at the bedside, literally climbed up on top of Charlie. Straddling him, he began chest compressions while the charge nurse placed an oxygen mask over his mouth, which was attached to a large balloon-like bag that she squeezed every few seconds.

Don could hear the doctor shouting out instructions and information about drugs dosages but nothing made sense to him. It was all just a meaningless blur of noise and motion. He had the sensation of his body spinning down a long spiral tunnel. Don was so hyper focused on the activity in the room that he didn't realized that he was calling out Charlie's name, he never felt Liz's hand on his arm or her voice urging him to come with her, nor did he notice the feeling of the nursing desk behind his back as he slid down to the floor.

Colby had followed Liz into the ICU to get Don after Alan and Amita had come out; Alan white faced and Amita all but hysterical. It was disconcerting to to see the senior agent sitting on the floor; his back against the nursing station desk with a horror-stricken look on his face. Liz knelt next to him trying to coax him to stand up and come out to the lounge with his father and Amita. Colby approached and between them, they got Don out to the lounge. Amita had managed to compose herself somewhat saw a silent almost catatonic Don being led to one of the armchairs next to the sofa and turned her attention to him, trying to get him to look at her. Amita's efforts were in vain for he just sat there not speaking or responding to anyone. Alan found this to be unnerving, but he was also dealing with his own terror at seeing Charlie's heart stop.

Nearly forty minutes later Doctor Bill came back out to the waiting lounge and sat heavily on the arm of one of the sofas next to Alan.

"We have Charlie stabilized now. This was a result of three factors; a dosaging error with the sedative, and interaction with the sedative and the anesthesia drugs, and the fact that his core temperature is rising faster than we anticipated."

Don finally reacted to what this doctor said and his head snapped up with fire in his eyes. "What do you mean a 'dosaging error'?"

Doctor Bill sighed and nodded his head. "A mistake was made with the sedative. The anesthesiologist administered the first dose of Versed after he was extubated in the OR. This information was omitted on his chart so the dose was re-administered when he arrived in the ICU. He had too much in his system. Also Charlie's body did not respond well to the Versed so we have switched to Fentenyol, the sedative that was used during his angiogram. Normally this should not have effected his heart but he had just come out of the general anesthesia, and that fact combined with the more dramatic increase in his core temperature was too much of a strain on his cardiovascular system. It caused his heart to fibrillate or quiver rather than to beat normally."

Don was furious and was about to lay into the doctor, when his father's reaction shocked him into silence.

"Will Charlie be all right? Was his heart damaged by this overdose?"

"No, Mr. Eppes, his heart was not damaged and his EKG came back normal. I am very sorry for this and I can only promise you that this will never happen again."

Alan sighed with relief. "I appreciate your candor, Doctor. I understand that accidents can and will happen, and as much as I would like you people to be perfect and eliminate all human error, I know that is just not realistically possible. The important thing is that you recognized the problem immediately and acted appropriately to save Charlie's life."

The doctor could see anger radiating from his patient's brother; anger tempered with fear. He was more than grateful that the elder Eppes had been so gracious about the mistake made by one of the OR nurses but in his mind that didn't excuse the incompetence that nearly killed his patient. There was going to be hell to pay over this in the morning and it was entirely possible that the young woman could lose her job. If nothing else, she would be held accountable in any lawsuits that might be brought to bear against the hospital by the patient or his family.

"We have slowed down the warming process by lowering the temperature in the warming blanket and he is being continually monitored and will be for the rest of the night. I still strongly recommend that you all go home and get some sleep."

Don looked incredulously at Doctor Bill then back at his father who nodded wearily and agreed that they should go home. The doctor stood up and address Alan. "Mr. Eppes, I know how frightening this was for you and I promise you that every single person here knows that I need to be present for every dose of sedative that Charlie will receive. I have no intention of leaving your son until he is awake, so if you'll excuse me I need to go back and check on Charlie."

Once the doctor had left the lounge, Don stood up and turned to Colby. His voice was tight with the effort to contain the emotions raging through him. "Colby, would you mind taking my father home?" He looked at Liz, who silently communicated that she would take him. He knew that Amita had her car with her but he wasn't sure she was okay to drive herself. "Amita, are you all right to get home? Liz could take you if you want."

Amita had recovered from her hysteria at seeing Charlie's heart stop and she raised her chin up a bit. "I'm fine, Don. I can make my own way home."

Alan was about to invite her to stay at the house but stopped and thought better of it. He wanted Don to come to the house rather than to stay at his apartment or Liz's place and if he invited Amita to stay, Don might take that as a dismissal. "Donnie, what about you? You are coming home tonight, aren't you?"

Liz didn't give Don a chance to say otherwise when she stepped forward and took his hand in hers. "I'll bring him to the house, Mr. Eppes."

The drive home didn't take long considering the lateness of the hour, but it seemed like an eternity to Liz. She felt so badly for Don and his family but she never really knew how to respond to him when he became moody and started brooding. It made her a little uncomfortable because she was sure that whatever she said or did when he was in this state of mind would be useless. Liz was not the kind of woman who enjoyed feeling useless and this side of Don was one of the things that made her unsure of how solid their relationship would remain. This aspect of him was such a stark contrast to the man who could light up a room with his smile. When he was in a great mood his energy was infectious, and it drew her like a moth to the flame, but she was just a little wary of getting burned when that energy turned sullen and dark.

She pulled up into the driveway behind Colby's car and turned the engine off but didn't make a move to get out. She reached out and took Don's hand, looking at him in the darkness, trying to gauge his mood. The lights from the porch were shining in the through the windshield and she could see that his eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. This unsettled her even more because she had never seen Don this emotionally exposed before. A part of her felt drawn to that vulnerability, while another part of her worried that if she acknowledged it, his defenses would go up and the cold, dark Don would emerge. "Don... "

Don didn't look at her as he held his jaw rigid. He shook his head slightly and whispered, "I can't."

"He'll be okay, Don."

That did it. Don turned toward her with fire in his eyes and look on his face that almost spoke of betrayal. "You don't know that."

She sighed and sat back against her seat. "You're right, I don't know that, but staying positive is only going to help. Your dad, Amita... they need you Don, they need you to be strong."

His eyes just bored into hers for a moment longer then he opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle before he looked back at her. "You're right Liz, they do need me to be strong to be their rock..." He turned away from her and whispered under his breath "What about what I need?" 

Once again Liz amazed Don with her abilities. He had to wonder to himself if the woman had bionic ears when she replied, "You have me for that, Eppes." Don turned back to her, and Liz was rewarded with a smile. For a moment a hint of the light she loved so much returning to his troubled eyes.

Colby had just stepped out onto the front porch and said goodbye to Alan. Don tapped his hand on the window frame of Liz's car and she slowly pulled out of the driveway. Colby stopped at the door to his own vehicle and as Don walked past the younger agent, he gave him a clap on the shoulder. "Thanks Colby. I know I already said it, but I'll say it again. You were here for my family today and I won't forget that. Let me know if you need any help with D.C., okay?"

"I'll be fine Don. I plan to stick around until Charlie is in the clear. D.C. can wait."

When Don walked into the living room, all of the anger that he had been feeling seemed to come back with a vengeance. He tried to push it aside but it just wouldn't go away. He didn't want to openly question his father in front of his agents and Charlie's girlfriend but now that they were in the privacy of their home, the anger bubbled to the surface so quickly that it took an effort for Don not to shout.

"How could you let that doctor off so easily, Dad? They nearly killed Charlie because someone wasn't doing their job!"

Alan knew that this was coming; he had seen it in Don's face at the hospital. Alan made sure his tone was calm and neutral. "What would you have me do, Donnie? What good would it have done to scream and yell at that doctor?"

Don pounded his fist on the doorframe. "He would have known for damned sure that this is NOT okay with us. Aren't you even a little upset that Charlie almost died because of someone's negligence?"

Alan was starting to get upset by the tone his son was taking with him and the fact that he was implying that Charlie's near death experience hadn't affected him. "Of course I'm upset, Don, and you insinuating that I'm not is not only ridiculous; it's disrespectful. That doctor that you are so angry with saved your brother's life twice today. That is a fact that you should not forget. Am I upset that the hospital made a mistake that could have cost Charlie his life? Of course I am, but screaming at that doctor would only be harmful. He would have to divert his attention to dealing with an angry family rather than concentrating on taking care of your brother. Recriminations can wait until we have Charlie back safely."

Don stood staring at his father; his face was a mixture of shame and frustration. When he spoke, the anger had left his voice but it had a stubborn bent to it. "They aren't supposed to make that kind of mistake, Dad. It's not like they forgot to put fries in the bag."

Alan stepped over to Don and placed his hands on his shoulders. He could feel the quiver in his muscles as though he were fighting with every ounce of strength to keep it together. "No, son, they aren't supposed to make mistakes like that, but the fact that someone did does not make them evil, uncaring, or even incompetent. It makes them imperfect; it makes them human, Donnie. I don't know about you but I am damned glad that there are people taking care of your brother and not some uncaring, infallible machine, no matter how perfect it might be." 

The sight of the doctor sitting on top of Charlie, trying to get his heart started, again flashed in front of Don's eyes and he could hold back the emotion no longer. "He almost died, we almost lost him forever." Don's voice came out in a strangled whisper as his shoulders begin to shake with suppressed emotion and before Alan even realized it, he was comforting his grown son as he wept openly for the first time since his mother had died.

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**Have a great weekend everyone. I'll see you on Monday with chapter nine.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

The last thing that Don expected was that he would get any sleep that night, but quite to the contrary, his emotional release had drained him completely and he slept like the dead, and felt guilty when his father had to wake him the next morning. He got up quickly and was showered and dressed within twenty minutes; anxious to get to the hospital, but as the time to leave drew closer, he became more and more nervous about leaving the house. This was the day that he would find out whether or not his brother had truly come out of this surgery unscathed. He rationalized that he feared that the world might lose one of the best minds of it's time, but in truth he couldn't have cared less about the rest of the world, it was he who didn't want to lose Charlie.

Alan sensed his shift in mood when Don began dragging his feet as he finished his coffee and cereal. Then he found three reasons to run back upstairs. It was nearly eight o'clock when Alan could take no more and stopped Don from running upstairs for a fourth time. "Donnie, it's time to go."

Don knew that he was stalling, but he was terrified to go to the hospital and find that Charlie wasn't Charlie anymore. This fear showed so clearly in his eyes that Alan felt his heart beat just a little faster, but he said, "Whatever the outcome of this, we will get through it; for God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love. It's time to be strong now, Donnie."

That was the second time that Don had heard his father speak of God or faith, which he found odd and slightly unnerving. He didn't recall him doing that when his mother was dying and wondered if he had simply missed it, consumed in his own grief. Don was not a practicing member of his faith, none of them was really, but he knew that what his father had just quoted was from the New Testament rather than the Old.

"So pop, what's it mean when a Jew starts quoting Christian bible verses?"

Alan draped his arm across Don's shoulders and began to steer him toward the front door as he spoke. "It means this old man has read more than one book."

When they arrived at the hospital, Amita was already there and had brought coffee with her for both of them. Alan was greatful since he didn't want to stop and get any on the way considering they gotten out of the house nearly thirty minutes after he had planned on leaving. Don looked at Amita closely and saw that she had dark circles under red and puffy eyes, as though she had spent the night crying rather than sleeping; her hoarse voice confirming that assumption. Don took her coffee from her and set it down on the table next to his, then stepped up to her and gave her a hug.

"Whatever happens, we are all in this together."

Amita hugged Don back and leaned on him. She didn't start weeping, having cried herself out the night before, but she felt a wave of emotion engulf her as his strong arms circled her, giving her a feeling of safety. She was so tired that she closed her eyes and buried her face in Don's chest, and didn't realize that anyone else had entered the lounge until Don pulled her away so that could all speak with Doctor Bill.

The small man looked worse than Amita. He tried to give off the air of someone fresh and alert but that impression was sabotaged by the rumpled scrub clothes that he had obviously slept in, and the odd way that he held his head, suggesting a crimp in his neck. Alan suspected that the constant monitoring that Charlie was under was, in fact, this man sitting next to his bed throughout the night.

"Good morning, I'm glad you are here. We discontinued the sedation at six-thirty this morning and allowed Charlie to wake up on his own, which he did around eight o'clock. Now he is still extremely groggy and will be for the rest of the day, and probably tomorrow as well. I was able to do a basic neurological assessment this morning when he woke and am happy to report that he is doing remarkably well."

Doctor Bill gave them all a moment to relax and absorb this news.

"I won't be able to do a full neurological examination until he is fully awake and not under the residual effects of the sedation. He does still have marked weakness on the right side of his body and he will require some rehabilitation therapy, but his eyesight has returned, although it is blurry. This is a normal side effect of the benzodiazepine antagonist that was given to him to counteract the Versed. This should subside over the next day or two. He has also demonstrated some reasonably accurate albeit partial memory of what happened to him, which from a neurological standpoint is very encouraging. He has asked about all of you and what I would like to do is to take each of you in to see him for a few minutes. He is weak and extremely tired and will have difficulty staying awake for more than a couple of minutes at a time, so it would be better to have him see you one at a time so as not to overwhelm him. Do not be surprised if he sounds confused when he first wakes, this is also a perfectly normal side effect of the sedation. With some concentration on his part he is able to communicate clearly."

The relief that Don felt was almost overpowering. The last truly coherent thing he had heard his brother say was "I love you" to Amita. With that thought in mind he hoped that his father would understand what he said next. "I think that Amita should go and see him first. She is the last person he saw before he fell asleep and it seems right that she should be the first person he sees when he wakes up. Besides, who wouldn't want to wake up to a pretty face?"

Amita tried to object to being put before Alan, but the older man squeezed her shoulders and said, "No that's all right, dear, you go in first. I'm sure he wants to see you. Don's right, yours is a much lovelier face to wake up to."

When she still seemed unsure, both Alan and Don urged her to go ahead, so she got up and followed the small man down the hallway to the ICU and Charlie. When she stepped into the room Charlie was asleep as Doctor Bill said he would be, but he looked so much better than he had when she had last seen him. He had color in his face and lips, and even though he was not awake, he seemed to radiate a low level of energy. His eyes moved slightly under closed lids, and when she took a hold of his left hand, he gripped her smaller hand back. As they walked down to Charlie's room, the doctor told her that all she needed to do was to call out to him and squeeze his hand slightly to wake him, so squeezing his hand slightly she spoke his name softly. The movement under his eye lids increased and after a moment, with an obvious effort, he opened them. He tried to scrutinize the person in front of him but the face remained blurry. "When do we land? I'm ready to get off this ride."

"Charlie?"

He recognised that voice and it jarred his mind back into focus as a warm smile lit up his face. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself. How're you feelin'?"

"Better now that you're here. Come're, so that I can see you better."

Amita leaned in closer and kissed him lightly. He pulled his hand from her grasp and raised it up to her face running his fingertips across her cheek.

"You've been crying."

New tears welled up in her eyes. "I thought I'd lost you."

A tear fell and he gently wiped it away saying, "Don't cry, Amita. I'm gonna be just fine; I promise."

Smiling through her tears she said, "I'll hold you to that promise, you know."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Charlie lowered his hand from her face and she took it again in her own. He tried to keep his eyes open, drinking in the sight of her, but a bone deep fatigue kept pulling at him. He allowed his eyes to close but held onto her hand a little tighter to let her know he was still with her. After a few minutes, his hand went slack as sleep claimed him again. She knew that both Alan and Don wanted their turns with him so she stood and leaned over to give him one more kiss before she left, pleased beyond words that even in sleep he responded and kissed her back.

Doctor Bill had stood off in the corner of the room so quietly that Amita had forgotten that he was there, but all the while he listened to their encounter and filed away mental notes to himself about his patient's neurological status, including the fact that he was able to carry on a coherent conversation with his visitors.

The next one to come in was his father. Once again, the doctor slid off into the corner and his small stature made it easy for him to become essentially invisible. Although Alan was aware of his presence in the room, his attention was riveted on his youngest. Alan took in the sight of Charlie, alive, and he allowed that image to replace the one of his son so cold and lifeless that had assaulted his dreams the previous night. Unlike Don, Alan had had a fitful night, plagued with nightmares of Charlie's death and funeral. Now lying before him was his son, and just like Amita, he got the impression of energy radiating from the young man even in his sleep. Alan reached out and stroked his son's hair, which was enough to make his eyes open. This time the young man seemed to be more clear-headed or at the very least he identified the touch of his father's hand.

"Dad?"

"I'm here now, Charlie. I'm sorry that I wasn't when you needed me."

Alan continued to stroke Charlie's hair gently, but stopped when his son frowned and raised his hand up.

"What's wrong, Charlie?" Alan asked with some trepidation.

Charlie raised his hand up to his head and felt the hair that was hanging over the bandage that went around his head; then he continued to feel around his head with a confused expression on his face.

"Charlie, what is it? Are you in pain?"

He shook his head slightly from side to side as he felt around the bandage then said, "My hair; I have hair? I thought... didn't I have brain surgery?"

Doctor Bill stepped forward and touched Charlie's left foot to let him know that he was there. "Charlie, it's Doctor Bill. You did have surgery, but we employed a newer technique called skull base surgery. Due to the location of the aneurysm, I was able to gain access to it through the Foramen Magnum at the base of your skull. We only had to shave a small section of hair underneath, at the nape of your neck. The alternative would have been to drill a hole in the side of your skull over the ear. If it is possible to use skull base surgery I prefer to, because it is less invasive and has a far shorter recovery period."

Charlie allowed his arm to drop to his side, exhausted from the effort it took him to run his hand over his head. "I guess I'm glad you didn't poke a hole in my head."

Charlie turned his attention back to his father who remembered that Charlie's vision was blurry, so he pulled the chair right up against the bed so that he was only inches away from his son. Charlie was now able to make out the features of his father's face and could see the dark circles under his eyes. He looked exhausted and Charlie suddenly felt guilty. His father was on a long overdue vacation when he had to come home, but it wasn't the vacation being cut short that made Charlie feel guilty, it was the strain and worry that his father; his family, had gone through. "I'm sorry, Dad."

"What for? It's not like you were faking to get out of school ya know."

Charlie's eyes were starting to droop but he smiled and said, "I never faked being sick to get out of school. I faked to get out of gym class... not my fault mom always kept me home." By the time Charlie had finished his thought, his eyes had closed.

Alan touched his son's face and whispered, "Rest well, my boy." He stayed with Charlie for a few more minutes stroking his hair, just immensely glad that his son was alive and doing as well as he was. When Doctor Bill cleared his throat quietly, Alan looked up and realized that Don was waiting patiently to come in and see his brother, so he reluctantly got to his feet and quietly left, heading for the lounge.

When Don entered Charlie's room, he was acutely aware of the neurologist's presence. The small man's quiet stance in the corner of the room may have been unobtrusive, even covert to most people, but to Don's trained observational skills it made the man stand out in Don's mind. It was kind of like his own investigative version of steganography. The picture within the picture. The more someone tried to blend into their background the more obvious they became to Don. He had to smile inwardly at the parallel, but all of his momentary observations ceased as he approached Charlie's bed and sat down next to him. Don knew that Charlie was lucid from what both Amita and his father had said, but there was still a small sliver of trepidation in his heart that wouldn't relinquish its hold over him until he saw it for himself. Don also made sure that he was only a few inches from Charlie's face when he reached out and took his hand, marveling at how warm it felt in comparison to the last time he had held it. Charlie slowly opened his eyes and took a moment to settle on Don.

A bright smile lit up the agent's features when he saw the spark that he was worried would be gone forever shining back from his brother's eyes. "Hey, Buddy. Welcome back."

Charlie smiled back briefly but after a moment, his expression became serious. He held his brother's eyes for a minute as though he were searching some hidden message contained within those dark pools before speaking quietly. "Don, you need to tell me the truth."

Don frowned but said, "Okay?" cautiously.

"Did I die?"

For a moment, all of the fear that Don had kept at bay came rushing back, nearly taking his breath away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the doctor stand up straighter and listen more carefully, his concern also piqued as well. "What?"

"I couldn't ask Dad or Amita. Don, I need you tell me the truth."

Don started shaking his head and his body language was that of someone backing away, but Charlie held onto his hand, steadfastly refusing to let go. "What kind of question is that? What do you remember, Charlie?"

Charlie sighed because he already had his answer, he could see it in Don's eyes; he could feel it in the palpable fear radiating from his older brother. "I remember cold, Don. Not feeling cold, it was a state of being, not just a mere sensation. Everything was cold; my body, my bones, my mind. It's what it must feel like to be... to be dead, but then I heard your voice; you were calling my name, and I tried to find you, to follow your voice. It wasn't just a dream, was it?"

Don felt his heart pounding with the implication of what Charlie was saying. He wanted to assure him that he was okay, but he couldn't lie to his brother. Charlie had a right to know everything that had happened to him. "Charlie, there was a mix-up with the sedation. They gave you too much and your heart stopped for a few minutes, but they were able to bring you back. This all happened after the surgery. Are you telling me that you remember; that you were awake to some degree? What else do you remember?"

Charlie closed his eyes for a moment trying to think back. He opened them again so that he wouldn't drift back to sleep. This was important and he needed to stay awake. "I remember the headache. I think I remember being blind, but only in one eye. I'm confused about a lot of things but I think I remember talking to you about... about wasted time. I have wasted so much time." Suddenly his eyes opened a little wider. "Amita! Don, did I... are Amita and I..."

Don knew where this was going and he squeezed his brother's hand. "No, Charlie you haven't asked her yet. Do you want me to go to Cal Sci and get the ring for you?"

"You know about that?" Charlie asked incredulously. He was pretty sure he hadn't said anything to anyone about his plans to ask Amita to marry him.

"Yeah, you told me about it yesterday. You don't remember that, do you?" Don once again noted the increased interest that the neurologist was paying to their conversation.

"I... maybe... I don't know everything is so fuzzy. I can't tell what was a dream and what was real. I have a vague impression of drowning; I remember being more scared than I have ever been in my life, although I think that must have been pretty real."

Charlie paused and closed his eyes for a moment. Just the small amount of talking had sapped his strength but he wasn't ready to go back to sleep yet. "Don, the ring... I want to ask her but I can't; not now, not like this. I don't want to waste any more time, but I can't do this right now."

Charlie sounded so dejected, and that was the last thing he needed at the moment. "Hey, Buddy, don't worry about it. The doctor said that you are gonna be just fine. You have plenty of time and for something this big you want it to be done right. Trust me, Buddy, Amita isn't going anywhere. She loves you as much as you love her."

Charlie seemed to relax a little and once again closed his eyes. He didn't open them but asked, "What else did I tell you?"

Don smiled and said, "You told me that David was an idiot." That got Charlie to open his eyes again. "You said it right in front of him by the way. Then you compared pride to the devil and asked me to picture David with a little pitchfork and a mustache like Snidely Whiplash."

His eyes were getting very heavy and he was struggling to keep them open. "I did not." he replied in a sleepy voice as he closed his eyes again. He never heard Don's rebuttal because he had once again succumbed to sleep. Don looked over at Doctor Bill and motioned for him to step outside the room with him.

"Charlie remembers his heart stopping? How is that possible? I mean it's obviously true, but how?"

"I gave him Romazicon to counteract the over sedation. The drug works very quickly and he obviously reached a moderate level of consciousness, but that was while we were administering CPR. I must admit that I am stunned that he has any conscious recollection of that experience. I will need to question him about it in greater detail, but that will need to wait." Dr. Bill watched as the other man nodded, his brow knit in thought, then touched his arm lightly. "What your brother experienced is not very common, but it has happened with many patients who have had near death experiences."

Don glanced back into the room and murmured to himself, "Well this should change his Cognitive Emergence work."

Dr. Bill frowned at that comment. "Cognitive Emergence?"

Looking back at the doctor, Don tipped his head slightly to the side. "My brother is a genius and he is working on a mathematical expression that explains the emergence of human consciousness. This experience should have some impact on his work."

The neurologist looked speculatively at his patient. "I would like to know more about his theory, but again that will have to wait for another time. Right now it is enough to know that he is doing remarkably well; we should let him rest for awhile." He turned and walked down the hallway with more spring in his step than Don had seen yet that morning.

Don paused for just a moment, watching him go, then looked back in through the doorway at Charlie. The thought that Charlie had known, that he had felt himself dying made a lump rise in his throat. A vision of Charlie lying on that bed; cold, pale, lips blue, came hurtling back to him. They had come so close to losing him. Now looking at the figure, sleeping peacefully, he took a deep breath and felt something release inside, as if an unseen hand had touched him, and unknotted the worry in his heart. Taking one more look at his brother, he straightened his shoulders, and strode back down the hallway. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Charlie's visitors were limited for the first two days after the surgery. As Doctor Bill had predicted, Charlie spent most of that first day drifting in and out of sleep. By eleven AM, when Amita had fallen asleep with her head leaning against Alan's shoulder, Don decided it was time for them to go home and get some rest. It didn't take substantial effort to convince them that they weren't going to do much good for either themselves or Charlie by hanging around the hospital.

"Look, I actually got some sleep last night, which is more than either of you can say. I'll stay here in case he wakes up, and I promise to call you if anything happens or changes."

Neither one of them could argue with Don's logic, and reluctantly agreed to go, but Amita didn't want Don to be stranded at the hospital without a vehicle, so she said that she would drop Alan off at the house. Once they had both left, Don walked down to Charlie's room and took a seat in the chair next to his bed to keep watch. His presence was not questioned by any of the staff and he suspected that might have been due to Doctor Bill.

Over the course of the day every time Charlie woke up, he was initially disoriented and confused until Don leaned forward, took his hand, and spoke to him quietly; reassuring him that everything was fine. He called out groggily for Amita twice but drifted back to sleep without actually waking. At two-thirty, Don asked to have Charlie's temperature taken, only to find that it was normal. The nurse explained that the profuse sweating that Don had noticed was a common side effect of the Fentenyl. What really bothered Don was the unsettled look in Charlie's eyes when he did wake up long enough to comprehend where he was, and who was with him. Don was convinced that his near death experience was troubling him, but Charlie was never awake long enough to have a conversation about it, so Don just lent whatever calming influence his presence provided, continuing to reassure him that he was okay.

Amita and Alan returned to the hospital by dinnertime to allow Don to take a break. He took the time to grab a bite to eat and contact his team, realizing that he had promised them that he would let them know how things had turned out and had never called them. Megan was unbelievably relieved to hear that Charlie was all right. The fact that none of them had heard from Don made her worry that Charlie had not come out of this surgery with all of his faculties intact. It was also the main reason that she had told Assistant Director Write that she would not call him about the new high profile case that they had been assigned... yet.

Now that he was on the phone with her and it was clear that Charlie was going to be fine, she filled him in on the rape and strangulation of Senator Barbra Boxer. Don had to sit down when he was told of the details of her murder. How had he not known that this had happened? But as soon as that thought entered his mind, he knew the answer. He had no idea what was happening outside of the ICU room where Charlie lay sleeping. He didn't want to leave his brother, but there was no way he could take personal time right now. He was the SAC of the Violent Crimes Squad and had no choice in this; he had to go back to work. As soon as he hung up with Megan his phone chirped at him indicating that he had missed a call from Colby, so he dialed him next.

"Hey, Don. How's Charlie?"

Don felt a little guilty that he had become so focused on his own concerns that he didn't take the five minutes necessary to tell his friends about Charlie. "He's gonna be okay. He will have to have some rehab because he still can't move his right side very well, but his eyesight is back." Don paused for a moment; then said, "He remembers, Colby. He was conscious or at least partially conscious when his heart stopped. He heard me calling out to him, but what's worse is he knows what happened. The first question he asked me when he woke up was if he had died, because he remembers it."

"I know how he feels."

That stopped Don dead in his tracks. He had almost forgotten that Colby had also just gone through a near death experience. "Colby, you remember that?"

"I'm not sure what I remember, Don. I had so many drugs running through my system. I remember hearing your voice, and David's, or I think I do. I don't know if I was conscious on some level or not. I just know that when I heard your voices I held onto that. It was like a lifeline."

Don was stunned by what his former team member was saying. If that was true, then his calling out to Charlie could have helped to save _him_. "Colby, look I have to go back to work. Senator Boxer..."

"Yeah, I know. I heard about the murder."

"I know I have no right to ask this of you, but could you spend some time with Charlie? You are the one person who can really understand what he's been through."

"Don, you don't need to justify anything to me. Charlie is my friend and I promised him I would stay. I have time; I've already arranged for a couple of weeks leave, so I can wrap things up here."

"Oh really, and they approved it, just like that?"

Colby's tone was light. "Of, course. What choice did they have; after all, I've just received the Medal of Meritorious Conduct." Colby paused for a moment then said, more seriously, "Don, you've had a rough couple of weeks and you're about to dive into a high profile case. Charlie will be all right. I'll be there for him, but so will your father and Amita."

"I know, Colby, and thanks."

Alan didn't even blink at the fact that Don had to go back to work. He had seen the news about Senator Boxer's murder and knew that Don had little choice in the matter, but his eldest was unwilling to go to the office until he could speak to Charlie. It was almost eight o'clock when Charlie woke again and both Alan and Amita had moved out to the lounge to give Don some privacy.

"Hey, Buddy."

Charlie seemed much less confused this time when he woke up and Don figured that the drugs must have been starting to clear out of his system a little. "How're you feelin'?"

"Weak, tired, but better I guess."

"Listen, Charlie I'm really sorry, but I have to go back to work. Senator Boxer was murdered and we got handed the case."

Charlie's eyes opened wide at that news. "Barbara Boxer? Oh, God; I saw her two weeks ago at a Cal Sci Fundraiser."

Don raised his eyebrows at Charlie. "You knew her?"

"Well, yes and no. I mean we weren't friends, but we have spoken on a few occasions."

Charlie tried to sit up in bed but Don placed a hand on his chest. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

"I need to get up, get out of here. You will probably need my help on this."

Don shook his head and marveled at how much he and Charlie were alike despite their differences. "Whoa there, Chuck, not so fast. You're not helping with this or any other case for a good long time. You have one job, and that is to get some rest so you can get better and come home to your family."

Charlie flopped down against the pillow and wondered briefly what had gotten into him. He was utterly exhausted and the rush of adrenaline upon hearing of Senator's Boxer's murder that he used to try to get up had wiped him out completely. "Yeah, you may have a point," he mumbled weakly. He closed his eyes, intending to rest them for just a moment, but before he could even form his next thought, he had fallen asleep again.

The next day was a little better. Charlie was able to stay awake for longer periods but found himself frustrated by his inability to move his right hand with anything resembling coordination. Alan was at the hospital by eight o'clock and ended up waiting in the lounge while Doctor Bill conducted a full neurological examination. Picking up the newspaper, he sat down to read and wait. Shortly after Alan arrived, Colby showed up with coffee and asked where Amita was.

"She had two classes that she couldn't get substitutes for this morning. Millie got the rest of her classes covered though." There was a pause while both men sipped their coffee, then Alan glanced over the tops of his reading glasses and looked at the young agent. "So, Colby, I heard that you are moving to the east coast."

Colby cocked his head to the side and shrugged. "Well, the D.C. position is a great opportunity, and it's a fresh start."

Alan nodded but he could hear the disappointment in the young man's voice. "You don't sound very excited about this 'great opportunity'. Are you sure that it's what you want?"

Colby looked up at Alan and smiled a little. "Charlie asked me the very same question."

Alan continued to look at him over the top of his reading glasses. "And?"

It was amazing how similar Charlie and his father were, and Colby knew that he was not going to be able to dodge this question. "What I want is to stay here, to have things go back to the way they were before all of this happened. But some things just can't be undone; some hurts don't heal."

Alan would have answered him but at that moment, the neurologist stepped out into the lounge. "Good morning. I am pleased to say that Charlie is doing much better than I expected. His eyesight has cleared considerably and he is able to remain focused to a much higher degree today. Part of his disorientation and confusion yesterday was due to the sedative. The drug is still present but over the course of the next twenty-four hours, I expect it to have completely bled out of his system. His waking periods will be longer today but he will still tire extremely easily. If possible, it would be better for him to keep visits brief. You may sit with him but allow him to sleep and wake up on his own."

Alan spent a good portion of the morning sitting next to Charlie's bed and speaking briefly to him when he woke. By eleven he had a crick in his neck, along with a sore back, and Colby suggested that he take a break and go get some lunch. Charlie had awakened during this whispered conversation between the agent and his father and startled Alan when he voiced his agreement to Colby's suggestion.

Charlie was glad to see Colby. It meant that he hadn't left for D.C. yet, and he was hoping that the agent would change his mind. Charlie had always liked Colby but more importantly, he didn't think the team worked as well without him. The social dynamic had been altered, but there was still hope that they could come back to a place at least very similar to where they were before. Charlie tried talking to him about that social dynamic and how it directly affected the team's success rate, but he kept getting distracted and losing his train of thought. After a brief pause, he looked up at Colby and asked, "When you were out there on that freighter; when they found you, did you... do you remember anything?"

Colby nodded at the young man. "Don told me that you have a memory that's been bothering you. I was kind of expecting this."

Charlie tried to read something in the agent's clear blue eyes. "You _do_ remember something, don't you?"

"I don't know if it's a memory or not, Charlie. I heard Don's voice, and David's. It seemed like someone had thrown me a life preserver; I just held on to those voices. If you want to know if I saw a white light or my father or some other deceased relation, I didn't. I just heard their voices yelling at me to hold on, so I did. There was nothing profound about what happened."

Charlie held his gaze for a moment then said, "Yes there was. You said you heard David's voice telling you to hold on, and you did. There's your answer."

A smile spread across Colby's face and he shook his head slightly. "I didn't know I'd asked a question."

"The minute you started thinking about moving to D.C. when your heart wants to stay here, you asked yourself a question. You have your answer, Colby and I guess, in the same way, so do I."

* * *

Charlie slept off and on for the rest of the day, and every time he woke up someone was with him, which made him genuinely grateful. Somehow, when there was a face to look at he was able to clear the murkiness out of his mind more easily. Don managed to stop by for a quick visit in the evening and was pleased to see that Charlie stayed awake long enough to eat some pudding and toast.

The doctor said that Charlie would need to stay in the hospital for at least a week longer to be monitored, have follow up MRI and CT scans to check on the aneurysm site and begin his occupational therapy. On the third day after his surgery, he was moved to a subacute floor that was closer to the occupational therapy center, owing to the fact that he had three sessions a day. Don promised to visit as often as the case would allow as well as making sure the other members of the team had an opportunity to swing by and see him as well. Amita reluctantly went back to her classes after Charlie was moved from the ICU, Larry stopped by once a day to see his friend and even Alan had ended up curtailing his visits to twice a day to bring Charlie some 'real food'. Colby, however, became a regular fixture on the subacute floor and accompanied Charlie to his rehab sessions, which Charlie found extreamly helpful. The agent kept him on task when he was tired or ill tempered, and he didn't seem to mind when Charlie became cranky with fatigue and wanted to simply give up.

Charlie responded well to the occupational therapy, more out of sheer force of will than anything else, according to his therapist. He had requested his that his laptop be brought to him so that he could work, but found it more than a little maddening to not have the motor coordination to type with his right hand effectively. Writing was even worse and his inability to coordinate his muscles was his biggest source of frustration. By his fourth day out of the ICU, he had reached the limit of his patience, and in a fit of pure vexation threw the book he was working with across the room. Unfortunately, David was just stepping in through the door when he let fly with the hardcover text and it missed his head by mere centimeters, crashing into the wall next to the doorframe.

"Hey! Okay I guess you're still a little peeved at me," David said in a startled tone.

"Oh, David! I'm sorry; I didn't realize you were there. That didn't hit you, did it?"

David waved and shrugged indicating that he was fine before he bent down and picked up the book. "Computational and Mathematical Organization Theory, just a little light reading to pass the time there, Charlie?"

"Hey, I'm sorry. Not being able to type properly is getting on my nerves."

David stepped over to the bed and took a seat facing the chair that Charlie was sitting in. His laptop was open and on the table in front of him. "If that is an example of something getting on your nerves remind me to never piss you off."

Charlie reached over and closed his laptop so that he could see David without having to look over the screen. "Look David, Don told me about the things I said to you when I was..."

"Hey, Charlie, you don't need to apologize."

A mischievous grin appeared on the young mathematician's face and he said, "Yeah, I know."

David looked surprised for a moment then he pantomimed getting ready to throw the hardbound text at Charlie, who flinched just the right amount to make them both laugh. Then David set the book down gently on the table next to the laptop and looked at Charlie. "Actually, you were right. Pride and stubbornness have allowed me to stay angry at Colby."

"Have you talked to him about that yet?"

David sighed and shook his head. "The last time I tried to talk to him, it didn't work out too well, and now; we've been so busy with the Boxer murder that I haven't had time to stop by and see him at all."

Charlie fought down the urge to smack David. The man was still being stubborn, whether or not he wanted to admit that to himself. "He was your best friend, right?" David just frowned and nodded. "Then give him the benefit of the doubt, David. If he really _was_ your best friend, you should at least do that."

David shook his head a bit sadly. "It's not that easy, man."

Charlie regarded him levelly. "Of course it's not, nor should it be." That got David's attention and he frowned in slight confusion at Charlie.

There are very few things in this world worth having that are easy; if they were then they would hold no true value. Sometiomes if you want something you have to fight for it, David, especially when what you're fighting for is as important as friendship. If Colby leaves and you never see him again, how do you think you'll feel a year from now when you look back and realize that you never even tried?"

David had no answer to that question so he just sat there, but Charlie could see the pain and regret in his eyes. "Think about it," Charlie said softly. "For the sake of you both, for the sake of the team. He was your _best friend_, David - just think about it."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N - **I want to thank both dHALL and Serialgal for their assistance with this fic.  
Serialgal has been a great beta and kept me grammatically correct because quite frankly I'd never know if I was dangling a participial or not. LOL  
dHALL is one of my best sounding boards when I'm stuck on some point. She thinks the same way I do and helped me to tie up several sections of this story when I was floundering.  
Please enjoy the wrap up to this little tale and let me know what you think  
Thanks for reading  
Alice I

**Chapter Eleven**

Ten days after his surgery Charlie was discharged from the hospital. Amita, Larry, Don, Liz, David, and Megan all came for dinner that night to celebrate his return home. Colby would have come as well, but he claimed to have had a prior engagement that he couldn't get out of. Don and the rest of the team assumed that it was related to the D.C. position, but Charlie suspected that he was avoiding David, not wishing to risk a confrontation at his welcome home party. Charlie tried to contact Colby throughout the course of the afternoon to tell him he would prefer his company regardless, but the agent had switched off his phone. Alan had decided to grill two huge racks of ribs as well as a rotisserie chicken. The rest of the meal was prepared by Don, much to Liz's surprise. The team was no longer under the gun now that the Boxer murder had been wrapped up and the senator's former boyfriend had been apprehended.

Charlie had worked hard regaining the mobility in his right hand, but his ability to walk had come along far slower. He still needed the assistance of a cane and the chances were good that it would be at least another month before he could walk without it. He still had a fair amount of weakness in his arm but his fine motor skills had improved greatly since he refused to give up either his chalk or his laptop. Walking was less of a priority for him and he had spent far less time working with the leg exercises in comparison to continually using his hands to type and write.

Charlie wanted to go back to work immediately and much to his surprise Alan was his staunchest supporter in that desire. Alan understood his son's need to return to a normal routine, and to put the last ten days behind him. Amita was just so happy to have Charlie back that she wouldn't voice an opinion either way about Charlie's return to campus. Alan suspected that she felt that it was too soon, but considering how adamant Charlie was about it, she had obviously opted to support his wishes rather than put up an obstacle for him. Don and Millie were the ones who objected to this idea, insisting that he needed time to rest and recuperate and Don said as much over dinner that evening.

"Don, are you kidding me? You, of all people, should understand. I'll tell you what; reverse the situation. You tell me that you would prefer to sit around at home all day when you could be back at work. I'm not talking about a heavy class load here. I actually have a very light semester at the moment. I have two seminars and two classes. Millie has no problem with me setting the committee work aside for a while, hell she doesn't even want me on campus at this point. I can't just sit around here all day. I'm a teacher, Don. I need to be in my classroom."

Don had to admit, grudgingly, that he would feel the same way. He wondered when he had started becoming an old mother hen about things and shook his head at himself. Charlie was right, it was not as if he had the kind of physical job that an FBI agent had. He could easily handle six or seven lectures a week and either Amita or their father could get him to and from campus until he was cleared for driving.

Charlie had spent the last day and a half preparing a special lecture for all of his classes and he had every intention of giving it, regardless of what Millie had to say about it, one of the advantages of having tenure. While the others had finished their meals and were lounging in the living room, Charlie made sure that he had all of the supplies he would need for his lecture set aside in a file box, which he set out on the dining room table before he joined his friends. Alan saw the box sitting there one of his trips into the kitchen and asked about it.

"What's all this, Charlie? You've got a lot of odd things here; golf balls, a bag of gravel, some mason jars... Charlie are you serious, you have two of your mother's teacups in here, a bag of sand... "

Charlie's eyes lit up and he spoke excitedly. "Those are the things I need for the lecture I am giving tomorrow to all of my classes. You should stop by, if you have time, and see it."

This piqued everyone's interest, and they went over to the box on the table to examine the contents. Larry looked introspectively at the items his friend had assembled and asked Charlie what the lecture was about. The young professor's face showed a calm confidence as he reached his arm around Amita's waist and said, "Life is full of lessons, but whether or not you learn from those lessons is another matter. I have; and that is what my lecture is about." 

David smiled at this answer and picked up one of the golf balls. "Golf balls are a good lesson in life; are they?"

With a mischievous grin, Charlie cryptically answered, "The golf balls are what matter, David."

Alan had no idea what his son was talking about, but he clapped his hand on the young man's shoulder and said happily, "Now, you see, I knew I was able to teach you something right."

The comment earned a laugh from Don, which warmed Charlie's heart. It had been awhile since he had heard his brother laugh.

* * *

Charlie was pleased to see that every class was full. His return to campus seemed to be generating some buzz among the students, as well as the faculty. He hadn't realized how many nails his fellow academics had figuratively driven into his coffin until he ran into one of the philosophy professors in the hallway. She yelped in shocked surprise when she saw him walking toward his classroom with Larry beside him, carting his box of lecture items. When Charlie reached out to touch her arm and ask if she was all right, she moved back slightly so that he couldn't actually make contact with her. 

This confused Charlie, which prompted Larry to shake his head at the woman. "Honestly, Professor Stroud, he's not a ghost. He simply didn't die."

Professor Stroud turned red in the face while muttering profuse apologies, before turning on her heel and practically running in the opposite direction. Charlie stood there with an utterly bemused look on his face watching the woman retreat.

"It would seem, Charles, that the ill-considered reports of your demise have, as of yet, not been corrected for some."

Charlie started walking again, smiling to himself, but still somewhat taken aback by Professor Stroud's behavior. "Everyone really thought I was dead? Why would that be?"

Charlie didn't need Larry to answer that question when a moment later Mildred Finch called out loudly, "Charlie! There you are!" She stopped where she was in the hallway and put her hands on her hips. "Well, Professor Eppes, it's good to see you back in the land of the living, but I still think you are pushing it. You nearly died; you should take some time to recuperate."

Larry and Charlie exchanged a knowing glance before Charlie turned his attention to the Tri-Departmental Chair. "Hello, Millie. I'm glad to be back. But, if you'll excuse me, I need to get some things done before my first class."

After Millie had left, Larry pointed out that it was also rumored that Charlie had been frozen in suspended animation to await a cure to whatever had killed him, and the stories about that were even more fantastic.

Charlie was greeted warmly and enthusiastically by his students, who had also heard from the rumor mill that he had died. One female student burst into tears when she saw him and he had to spend a few minutes calming her down before he could even think about getting the class started. Once all of his students were seated, he stepped around the table that was set up in the front of the class, leaning heavily on his cane.

"Good Morning. To quote Mark Twain, the reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated." Charlie smiled inwardly. Two boys in the back of the room laughed heartily at the remark, while others reacted with that nervous laugh that people use when they are not sure what to think.

"Okay, let me set the record straight for everyone. Eleven days ago, an aneurysm in my brain sprang a leak. I have probably had the aneurysm for years and just never knew it was there; until it caused the worst headache you can ever imagine. I went to the hospital where the problem was diagnosed, and then I had surgery to repair it. I am told that one of the rumors flying around is that I was cryogenically preserved. I'm afraid that is just a little too Isaac Asimov. I was actually put into a state of deep hypothermia to protect my brain during the surgery. I am walking with a cane because the result of all of this was a sort of mini stroke. I am firmly 'in the land of the living', as one of my colleagues so suitably put it, and I would like to draw your attention to this..." Charlie reached into the box behind him and pulled out a jar. "...this mason jar."

He set the jar down on the table and walked around behind the box so that everyone could see the jar. He pulled out a shoebox filled with golf balls and set that on the table next to the jar. Looking up at the class he said, "Jason, would you come down here and put golf balls in this mason jar until it is full?"

One of the students who had laughed loudly at Charlie's death remark stood up and walked up to the table. He was able to fit eight balls into the jar before they reached the top. Once Jason sat back down, Charlie looked up at his class again and asked, "All right; is this jar full?"

Although baffled by what was obviously a trick question, most of the class nodded their heads in agreement, but he noted a few students who were shaking their heads no and so he picked one of them next.

"Jessica, you don't seem to think the jar is full." Charlie reached into the file box and pulled out a plastic bag full of gravel. "Why don't you come up and see if you can fill the jar with this."

Jessica stepped up to the table and began to drop gravel into the jar. She shook the jar and tapped it onto the table as she filled it, to make sure the small stones dropped in the space between the golf balls. When she was finished, she looked at her work with a critical eye, frowning. No matter how much she shook the jar at this point, she wouldn't be able to get any more gravel into it.

"You don't look convinced, Jessica."

Another student called out, "She's right! The jar isn't really full yet."

Charlie smiled at this and said, "All right then, Robert." He pulled another bag out of the box that contained sand. "Why don't you try to fill it with this?"

Jessica sat down and Robert came up to the table and did much the same thing that Jessica had. He poured the sand into the jar, stopping occasionally to shake and bang the jar on the table until the sand had filled in all of the spaces around the golf balls and the gravel. When he could get no more into the jar, he looked with satisfaction at his work.

Charlie looked out at the class and asked if the jar was now full and they all replied with certainty that it was. He indicated that Robert should take his seat and while the young man was doing that, Charlie pulled out the two teacups and set them down on the table next to the jar. He began to fill them both with coffee from a small silver carafe while he spoke.

"I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things - Your family, mother, father, siblings, children, your health, your friends, your faith, and your passions. These are the things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The gravel represents the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car.

The sand is everything else -- the small stuff."

"If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the gravel, or the golf balls. This same concept holds true for your life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff; and this includes anger, jealousy or hurt feelings, who is talking about who at school or work, getting the house cleaned for that party next week, getting a perfect score on your next pop quiz, then you will never have room for the things that are truly important to you."

Charlie had finished pouring the coffee into the two small teacups, which his mother had always kept on the highest shelf in the kitchen cupboard so that the boys wouldn't accidentally break them. He smiled at the memory of her pulling out those cups when a friend, or her Aunt Ida, would stop by for a visit. Then, he looked up at his students with true passion radiating from his face.

"Life is precious and not something to be taken for granted. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner."

He reached into the shoebox and pulled out another golf ball. "Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house or fix the disposal. What there isn't time for, are feelings of anger or betrayal, jealousy or hate to fester and erode what is really important. Take care of the golf balls first; those are the things that really matter. Set your priorities, but the most important thing that you can take away from this lecture today is this:  
**Memento Vivere**. _Remember to Live_.  
The rest… well, the rest is just sand." 

Jessica raised her hand and asked what the coffee represented. Charlie looked down at the teacups and felt warmed by the memories they generated. He smiled at her and said, "I'm glad you asked."

He picked up the cups and said, "These cups are here to show you…" he said as he began to pour the first cup into the mason jar, "…that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend." And by the time he had finished speaking both cups had been emptied and the jar was truly full.

Charlie's lecture on life spread like wildfire through the campus. By midmorning, the department had received so many requests to sit in on his afternoon repeat of the class that he had to move it one of the larger lecture halls on the east quad. Nearly one hundred and fifty people showed up for his two o'clock lecture. Even with all of those students filling the seats of the large hall, Charlie couldn't help but notice the arrival of his very own golf balls as they lined up along the back wall to watch.

Don and his entire team, including Colby, were there, as was his father, Amita, Larry and even Millie, who had canceled one of her own lectures to hear him speak. By the time he'd finished sharing the most profoundly personal lecture he had ever given, for the second time that day, Charlie was utterly exhausted. Leaning more heavily on the cane than he had all day Charlie fielded questions from the group. All the while he could see the expressions on the faces of the people he cared most about. Seeing through their eyes at that moment in time, he knew without any doubt that the price he had paid to learn this lesson in life for himself was worth every moment of fear and agony. Now he could only hope that those people whom he held so dear would be able to glean as much wisdom from hearing him share what he'd come to understand was so important.

* * *

Somehow, stepping off the elevator and walking through the doors to the bullpen seemed so much harder now than ever before, even more so than his first time back after being released from the hospital nearly three weeks ago. 

"Follow your heart," he muttered to himself under his breath. This all seemed so much easier when he had been talking with Charlie after his lecture yesterday, but now there was no turning back. So, he took a deep breath and looked around the bullpen for Don, Megan, and David.

It was unusually quiet for a Thursday afternoon. Most of the constant activity he was used to seeing was absent, as though the office had gone home early for the day. He spied his former team all together in the far right conference room sitting at the table eating lunch. Butterflies not withstanding, Colby gripped the stack of files in his arms a little tighter and walked purposely forward. When he pushed the door open, he was met with surprised stares.

Don started to stand, saying, "Colby! What are you doing here? I thought you had left for D.C."

Colby waved his hand, indicating that he should remain seated. "A very wise friend of mine told me to follow my heart, even if it led me down a path that is more difficult to travel. Well, I know a little something about walking a path that is hard to follow. You don't trust me; none of you really do."

Colby held up his hand to ward off the objections or comments that were forming on their lips. "I wouldn't trust me if I were in your place either. You have no idea what I said, what I did... what or who I reported to for the last two years."

With that, he laid a file on the table in front of each of the agents sitting there. "Well, now you do. That's all of it; every report I ever filed to my handler about each of you."

Don sat forward frowning at him deeply. "You kept copies? Colby, isn't this stuff is classified."

"Yeah, I kept copies of all of it; my own insurance policy. Couldn't have everything I'd done over two years disappear while I sat in jail and tried to pry information out of Carter. The only reports in those files are ones that concern each of you, so it isn't really classified. It wasn't a job I enjoyed doing, but I did it anyway, because that was what I was ordered to do. I didn't expect to find friendship here, but when I did... The relationships that I developed with the three of you are what kept me sane and focused on what needed to be done. You became my lifeline to an existence I had to give up when I took on this assignment. "

Colby reached into his coat pocket, withdrew a familiar envelope, and tossed it down on the table. "I called D.C. and told them I wasn't coming. I don't want to go to D.C..." He stopped and looked into the faces of his former team, willing himself to keep his emotions under control and almost succeeding. "I want to come home."

Colby held their gazes for another minute then turned and quietly left the room. David eyed the folder in front of him for several seconds, and then suddenly seemed to come to a decision. He picked it up and followed Colby out of the conference room. Megan made a move to follow David; concerned that another argument would break out, but she was stopped by the touch of Don's hand on her arm.

"Let them work this out, Megan."

David quickened his pace to catch up to Colby and called out. "Hey!"

Colby turned and readied himself for whatever David was going to say. He knew that this could get unpleasant, but he had committed himself to this course and was determined to hold his ground. When David handed the folder back to him, he didn't take it. He just looked at his former partner with a frown of confusion.

"I don't care what is in this file, Colby. It doesn't change who I am or who you are."

Colby reached out tentatively to take the folder. He didn't know what he had expected. He had been prepared to endure a fight brought on my his refusal to go to D.C., and in effect tell them that he was going to stay right here in L.A., whether he was welcome or not. What he didn't expect was for David to tell him that he didn't want to know. That was the biggest point of contention between them, the fact that David had shared confidences with him, while Colby was undercover investigating him and everyone else.

"When I first came here; to this office, I was assigned to Don's team. But, I reported to Assistant Director Walter Merrick. I was put on this team to make sure that Don was doing his job and following the rules. It was out in the open, I wasn't undercover, but I was still an outsider who found a home. I stopped reporting to Merrick after the six months because there was nothing to report. I'm sure you already know all of this, but I thought I should say it anyway."

"What exactly are you trying to say, David?" 

David clapped him on the shoulder and smiled. "Welcome home, man."

Both Don and Megan had slipped out of the conference room quietly and surreptitiously moved closer to the two agents facing off. Megan raised her eyebrows at Don when David told Colby about his assignment to the team and Don shrugged. When David welcomed him back, Megan and Don couldn't keep from cheering aloud.

"Well, it's finally good to have everyone back." Don said happily. "I'm tellin' ya, if you two knuckle heads didn't work this out soon, I was gonna have to employ the Gary Walker technique on you guys."

David and Colby were both smiling at that and Colby said, "And just what is the Gary Walker technique?" 

"Hmm… let's see how did he put it? I'd have to bash your heads together and move on from there."

David grabbed Colby's shoulder and said, "Hey, man, we have extra sandwiches and it's lunch time..."

With a big smile Colby turned toward the conference room. "You don't have to ask me twice." It was good to be home.

**The End**

* * *

For those of you who may recognize the content of Charlie's lecture. It is an adaptation of one of those feel good forwarded e-mails that we all get from some well meaning friend. The theme of that message fit so well with what this story is all about that I decided to use it. Also I purposely decided not to address the Amita / engagement ring issue. This story was really about Colby and David not Charlie and Amita. I figured that can wait for another time.  
I do hope that you all enjoyed this story.  
There should be more coming from me in the relatively near future. Be sure to check my profile page for updates on new projects! 


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